I generally don’t cook unless it involves a crock pot. The Boy makes our delicious meals and I do the dishes. But, since The Boy was gone this weekend, I was in charge of getting food into my belly. I took advantage of this circumstance to eat foods that The Boy doesn’t like.
Usually that means a junk food pizza, drowning in grease. But I had different ideas this time. Starting with smoothie-a-palooza on Saturday. Obi does not approve of multiple loud trips to the kitchen, but at least I wasn’t using the white box that inevitably leads to the smoke detector going off.
Today, I decided to try an avocado pasta. White box, engaged. Obi sat on the other side of the kitchen to watch the white box and me cutting things at the counter. He brought his tweeting bird with him for reinforcements.
Oliver wanted to be in charge of taste tests. Something about slicing open an avocado must sound like a tuna can because he was twisting around my legs and screaming for me to share. To shut him up, I set the avocado skin down on his breakfast plate. He shoved his face into the skin then backed up two steps and fixed me with a glare. This was NOT tuna. It was nothing he wanted to eat at all.
I tossed the offending skin into the trash can and turned to see Oliver leading Obi out of the room.
The Girl should stick to things in cans.