So what gets me out shopping? Valentines Day 2011. He handed me a card that was not filled out, not in its envelope, still inside the CVS bag and said "Happy Valentines Day" as he ran off to work. I'm not even a celebrator of Valentines Day other than to make a nice meal and give a card and maybe some candy..... but this????? No, this was too much. I'll forgive you if your romance meter is set at 3 but this was a negative number that didn't even make it onto the meter. Teach a lesson? I went shopping!
|Le Creuset Signature Oval Dutch Oven|
It's 9 1/2 carats of cast iron love. Okay, its 9 1/2 QUARTS of cast iron love! Same thing! Hey, what can I tell you? It's my form of jewelry! He buys tools. I buy kitchen jewelry!
It's this very pot that came up in conversation today when I discovered it missing from its rightful place under the lights of my stove, sparkling like an obnoxious diamond ring. I looked everywhere in the kitchen for it. Not to be found. Searched the still packed-up dining room (we're under perpetual construction in our house, husband is a contractor so you know what they say about the shoemakers son!) Searched the living room. Searched the pantry. Bupkis! So I turned my glaring eyes at the one person who could be the culprit and asked him point blank, "Where did you put my pot?" He has a habit of moving things and never recalling where he puts them. My little ones winter coat was bothering him hanging on the coat rack in the spring so he put it away and we didn't find it again for three years until we organized our attic last summer. The attic!
Is that where my pot was?
He looked at me like I had three heads and said he didn't put it anywhere. I got closer. And repeated the question: "Where is my jewelry? The big Le Creuset???" This man had the balls to proclaim his innocence. He recalled putting it on the bottom shelf in the cabinet. IT DOESN'T FIT THERE. It's too damn big. It's my 9 1/2-carat-wont-fit-anwhere-pot/diamond ring. But he says he knows he put it there. Knows it fits and I must have moved it away from that spot. Is he insane? I am woman. I know how to fit everything with just millimeters to spare in a kitchen. He's toying with me, laughing. I got closer still. And repeated "Where's my fucking pot?" He's now hysterically laughing swearing he can't remember where he put it.
And then I remembered.
I made an enormous pot of chicken soup with dumplings two weeks ago and put what was leftover in the spare refrigerator downstairs. I prayed I had washed it in my sleep and put it away in its proper place and it was still his fault so I crept downstairs and opened the refrigerator door and.....
Crap! He can never know!