Don't Tell My Mom
You have to promise not to tell my mother what you read about in this post. Although, if you were to tell her she probably wouldn't believe you, so we're safe there.
Living with the Sweetie is turning me into little miss happy homemaker. I dig thinking about what I'm going to cook for dinner tonight. When Sweetie complements my cooking it just gets to me at my core. We have an agreement that whoever cooks doesn't have to do the cleanup, but I'll do as much cleanup as I can while cooking the meal so that Sweetie doesn't have to deal with all the crap I drag out just to make dinner.
Today was a crap day at work, so I didn't have the energy to cook dinner inside me. I felt guilty when I e-mailed the Sweetie and asked if it would be OK if I picked up Mexican on the way home.
The Independent Swank is slowly changing into the Domestic Diva. Of course, it's VERY slowly, because there are still several boxes left to unpack, and none of those meals has been sitting at the table because it's covered in CD's, and I think Jimmyh Hoffa may be buried under our coffee table, but you can't change Rome in a day.
Living with the Sweetie is turning me into little miss happy homemaker. I dig thinking about what I'm going to cook for dinner tonight. When Sweetie complements my cooking it just gets to me at my core. We have an agreement that whoever cooks doesn't have to do the cleanup, but I'll do as much cleanup as I can while cooking the meal so that Sweetie doesn't have to deal with all the crap I drag out just to make dinner.
Today was a crap day at work, so I didn't have the energy to cook dinner inside me. I felt guilty when I e-mailed the Sweetie and asked if it would be OK if I picked up Mexican on the way home.
The Independent Swank is slowly changing into the Domestic Diva. Of course, it's VERY slowly, because there are still several boxes left to unpack, and none of those meals has been sitting at the table because it's covered in CD's, and I think Jimmyh Hoffa may be buried under our coffee table, but you can't change Rome in a day.
posted by Swankette at 11:24 PM
2 Comments:
I totally love hearing my husband compliment my cooking. We're still unpacking from our move in Nov., so I know where you're coming from on the boxes front. Now if I could just train my books to climb up on the bookshelves...
The books that I've unpacked are on the bookshelves. There is absolutely no order to them, but they are on the bookshelves.
Unfortunately, the boxes left are mostly stuff I don't need/care about that much. Or the couple of boxes of paperwork that need to be filed that have followed me throught the last 3-4 moves without being unpacked, so the motivation there is low.
If it weren't for the fact that we have no dining room table or stereo system, which are hiding behind that final wall of boxes, we might just have a permanent installation in the middle of the dining room.
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