The Spring Cleaning Bug - Better Late Than Never?

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I was cleaning house this morning and I think I had some sort of religious experience in between dusting and using the last of the toilet bowl cleaner. I was going along, minding my own business, when I was struck full force by the realization that I couldn't remember the last time I had dusted the blinds. Then it occurred to me that the windows also need cleaned. And when was the last time I really scrubbed down the fridge? 

I found myself in the grips of a full-fledged cleaning frenzy. Not that I actually did any of the work, mind you. Instead, I did what I do best. I made a list. 

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Dinner Negotiations

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Last night as I was taking dinner out of the oven, Blair walked into the kitchen and opened the refrigerator. 

"Why the hell is there an eggplant in here?" 

"That's for tomorrow's dinner," I said. "I found an eggplant recipe I want to try." 

He crossed his arms. "I don't like eggplant." 

"You don't know that. I just haven't done a very good job cooking it. That's why I want to try this recipe. It looks really good." 

A series of retching noises followed. 

"Hey!" I said. "What is our deal? I plan and cook the meals but you have to eat whatever I put in front of you, no questions asked." I paused. "And no attitude."

I heard muttering behind me.

"Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?"

"I said I'm pretty sure there's some sort of 'nasty' clause in our agreement. I shouldn't have to eat anything that's outright nasty." 

"There's no nasty clause!" 

"Well, there should be." 

The beauty of it is, I'm going to a dinner function tonight so I won't even be home to eat the eggplant. I told Blair this morning that his eggplant dinner would would be ready and waiting for him in the fridge. He nodded grimly and set out the door.

Better him than me. I've not had success with eggplant so chances are strong the dish will indeed turn out "nasty." 

Did I Mention I Made Him A Souffle?

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Last night I didn't arrive home until just after 7 PM. My stomach was rumbling as I walked in the door. 

"Hey sugah," said Blair, coming to meet me and give me a kiss.

"Hey. Did you eat yet?" I asked.

"I sure did."

"How was it?" 

"How was what?" 

Knowing I'd be home late, I had made a spinach soufflé and side dishes earlier that afternoon and tucked them away in the fridge. I'd left a note on the kitchen counter telling Blair what there was for dinner. Which he had obviously ignored.

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