It was a typical Sunday afternoon ...
Danny: "Hon? I know ... why don't WE make enchiladas tonight?" (translation from Dannyspeak to English ..."WE" means "YOU").
Me: "I don't know how to make enchiladas."
Danny: "Oh it's real easy."
Me: "Then why don't YOU make the enchiladas?"
Danny: "Ha ... ha."
Me: "Besides, I don't have anything. I haven't been to the market."
(I had been neglecting my own grocery shopping for the last two weeks because we were going to have Thanksgiving at my sisters and she just got a new job and didn't have the time to do all the shopping so I was helping her out and taking everything to her house, therefore, I had no food in my house which meant that I would have to go to the market to buy EVERYTHING for the enchiladas, then come home and COOK on Sunday ... the traditional day of rest ... but not for Debbie).
Danny: "No really ... it's really easy. All you do is get the chicken, shred the meat, chop up the onions, get the sauce ....
Me: "Again ... if you know how to make them, then you make them."
(We like to play this funny little game, he and I, over how easy/difficult it is to cook a particular meal and I always end up losing because COOKING IS EASY therefore I ALWAYS end up making the meal ... even on the weekend ... because I am unemployed and I have to earn my keep ... because I'm a slave - ugh.)
So I go to the market, get the chicken breasts, buy an onion, get the tortillas and buy an apple pie for HIM because I'm stupid that way.
I call my sister ... "hey, how do you make your enchiladas?" She tells me. I do it. I sweat and chop and cook and shred, I peel and saute and cook and cook and then I wash the THREE pans I have so I can re-use them because they are the ONLY three pans I have because my husband is a tight wad and then I cook some more. This equates to standing on my feet which are riddled with plantar fasciitis for over an hour which is killing me. I get the enchiladas in the oven, then I start making the rice and the beans because you can't have enchiladas without rice and beans so this means I am standing for another half hour. I finally finish in the kitchen and after having done two rounds of dishes ALL while preparing dinner I FINALLY SIT DOWN.
Me: "Danny, YOU are going to clean the kitchen for me because I've been standing for over an hour and I made you the enchiladas okay?"
Danny: "Yeah, yeah."
DINNER IS SERVED.
Danny: "MHMMMM, MYMMMM, OMG, THESE ARE PERFECT! MHMMMM".
Me: "Awww honey ... It makes me so happy when I make something you really like."
Twenty minutes pass. We eat. We converse. We smile. Everybody is happy.
Forty minutes later there is an empty Pyrex baking dish with remnants of tortilla, chicken and enchilada sauce which is rapidly coagulating. Two pots, one with rice the other with beans which need to be transferred to Tupperware, a multitude of forks, knives, spoons and other cooking utensils are also hardening with various remnants of foodstuffs.
Me: "Danny .... you are going to clean the kitchen for me right?"
Danny: "Yeah, yeah. I'll do it in the morning before I go to work."
Me: (I knew it) "That's disgusting" I say.
Me: "Letting food sit in pots and and pans overnight like that while the food hardens, etc. Only pigs live like that."
Danny: "I'll do it in the morning what's the big deal?"
OK. I'm not even going to attempt to explain why I cleaned the stupid kitchen but I swear I will never, EVER make enchiladas again! EVER. And I mean it. Really.