A sign from God that I should never cook again.

The last couple of days that has been an unexplained smell in our kitchen/dining area. At first, we thought one of the kids had farted, but the hours of lingering quickly debunked that theory. Then we figured it was coming from the mudroom, stinky feet and such...but a sniffing mission blew that one out of the water as well. As we sat eating breakfast this morning, both of our noses wrinkled up and looking around, the Husband theorized that there could be a dead mouse behind the stove. This got me thinking...

During this past week, the Husband and I were kinda fighting, so we obviously weren't communicating as we usually do. Keep that in mind as you read on.

K: "A dead mouse would smell that bad? Really?"
H: "It could...we could pull the stove out and see."
K: "Wait a minute..."
H: "What?"
K: "You found that ground beef I left out the other day, right?"
H: "The pound in the fridge? Yeah, I used it last night for the sloppy joe's."
K: "No no...Wednesday night, I was making a casserole..."
H: "Uh huh..."
K: "And I was gonna use ground beef and changed my mind..."

I had discovered that I didn't have all the ingredients I needed, and switched to a chicken dish. The thawed ground beef had been sitting on the counter, but Youngest Child kept trying to stick his fingers in it, so I had quickly stuck it into a pan that had been on the counter. I didn't put the pans back into the oven at the end of the night, and left for work the next morning and forgot about it. When I got home, the pans were put away, so I assumed the Husband had found the ground beef, shaken his head at what a fucking airhead I am, and thrown it away.

H: "I never found any ground beef, K."
K: "WHAT???"

The husband walked over to the oven, pulled the big frying pan out of the oven (which had a lid on it), took the lid off...and found my ground beef.

He looked at me like I was completely insane and ran outside with it. He then came back in, sprayed everything down with Lysol, and again looked at me like I was insane.

K: [laughing hysterically]
H: "That's so fucking gross."
K: "Good thing I have tits huh? Makes me easier to put up with."
H: "No shit, huh?"


Sometimes I wonder how I became such a functional retard.