I know my husband had a right to eat, but must EVERYTHING he cooks gag me to death?
Ok, I know we live in a ranch so it isn't easy to get away from the smells coming from the kitchen; even in the bedroom with the door closed, but geshhhhh, did he really need to make some kind of frozen pot roast deluxe when the smell of water makes me puke?
Who would have thought frozen pizza had a 'smell'? Or frozen jalapeno poppers? Or opening the fridge in general?
I know the man has a right to eat, but why can't he live on bread, cream of wheat, oatmeal and cereal WITH me for cryin' out loud?
Today & yesterday I had jury duty. I was dreading it at first, but found the experience pleasantly interesting......that is except for the coffee they had to brew in the juror's room, the man next to me in the juror box who insisted on breathing with his mouth open and eating what I believe to be raw garlic and onion for lunch and then, of course, during deliberations, they ordered PIZZA. My god....PIZZA....one of the things I am having the most hard time with. Which is odd because normally I can scarf down a pie like no ones business.
And the nerve of the court house to offer Pepsi in their vending machines instead of Coke. Pfffft!