As it was hot out today I had tactically chosen to cook jacket potatoes with pulled pork or chilli (defrosted leftovers) instead of standing in the boiling hot kitchen slaving over a hot stove, I was feeling rather smug about how easy this dinner was going to be to prepare until.....the microwave decided not to work...oh what a pisser....but I stuck the potatoes in the oven, yeah it takes longer but oh well....the pulled pork (according to my gorgeous husband) smelled funny...in the bin...I defrosted soup instead of chilli...in the bin...then I opened the fridge to discover there was no butter (no butter? I hear you cry? Go to the shop you lazy cow? Me and the boy are lactose intolerant so they don't just sell it at the corner shop/garage.) at this point my dearest darling angel baby teenager walks into the kitchen and announces she has to go to work in a bit....and she can't eat a jacket potato with no butter...beat her I hear you cry? I WAS tempted...but as beating your children is (quite rightly) frowned upon....I screamed 'it's not a hotel, you don't get to order off a menu' (you probably heard) then as the offending teenager was in her underwear getting ready for work and I couldn't very well send her to the shop and since I was lacking any other volunteers I went to the shop for butter (for the other non lactose intolerant jammy bastards whilst me and the boy made do with mayo) IN my house clothes (you know the ones I mean...clothes you only wear indoors....clothes that are not suitable for public consumption..clothes that you maybe (probably) shouldn't still be wearing.....in this case the teeny tiniest pair of jean shorts and a cropped slash front tee shirt...you know the ones that are longer on one side than the other...😬) I'd like to publicly apologise to anyone...including the poor shop keeper...that had to see that .....then upon my return the mother fucking cheese grater went missing....fuck you cheese grater! Fuck you....
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