Yesterday Michael had to fly to Birmingham to pick up a car that he bought from his cousin. His car finally died, as I've been telling him it would for the past five years. He's one of those people who will drive a car until it completely falls apart and it drives me nuts! His car had really started to look and sound pitiful and I was secretly praying that it would just break down on the side of the road so he'd be forced to buy another one- and it finally did! Since he got up so early to catch his flight and then had to spend seven hours alone in a car I thought he'd be too tired to do anything, but he called me and asked if I wanted to go out to dinner. I told him that was fine but we had plenty of food we could cook at home if he didn't feel like going anywhere. It's weird to me that we consider going out to eat less work than cooking. I mean, there are definitely days when I don't feel like cooking- and more importantly, don't want to clean up the mess- but is it really any less work than having to get ready to go somewhere, spend an hour deciding where to go (maybe that' s just us!), drive to the restaurant, and wait for a table?
Ultimately we decided to stay home for dinner. Michael said that he and Lucy wanted hamburgers and that he would grill some. I told him I did NOT want hamburgers but that I would be totally happy just eating leftover chicken and rice from the night before. Then I called my sister and asked if she wanted to come over since her husband was working. She came over and said she'd eat anything, and I took that literally. Our hodge podge of a menu ended up consisting of: hamburgers, french fries, chicken and rice, mac and cheese, cucumbers & vinegar, and yeast rolls. We obviously hate carbs.
This morning after breakfast Lucy went in my closet and found my Gator slippers.
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