We originally we planned to make some kind of chicken dish tonight. This morning, I distinctly remembering my wife asking me to take out said chicken from the freezer so that it would be thawed in time for dinner. However, at the time there seemed to be something more pressing and I shelved that thought planning on returning to get it later. There is the problem. The idea of taking the chicken out got mothballed and I moved on to the other mundanities that make up a typical Sunday of my existence. So around 3:00, after a day of doing this and that, I very nonchalantly asked the wife if she had any particular plans for dinner. Now keep in mind that I had a pizza plan baking in my head and was ready to pop that out should there be no plan. This is when the wife mentions that the chicken is thawing in some water in the sink and might be ready by dinner time. It probably took me a good 15 seconds to process the meanings and import of all the actions and inactions of the day. Still no apology in sight and the wife's obvious disappointment lingering in the air I pull out the "pizza plan". The wife though not over joyed is visibly relieved and I gave her the old, "we'll put the chicken in the fridge for tomorrow night," line and all seemed to be well. Then we found out we were out of yeast. So I made shake and bake chicken and just cooked it really well.
I thought about making some garlic mashed potatoes but we were down to our last two taters. So the wife made her pan fried potato slices with broccolli covered with cheese. That and some rice ably filled our plates and made for a fabulous dinner.
Then, would you believe it, the wife had put together an apple-rhubarb crumble which was perfect with serving of vanilla ice cream. I also finished off last nights spring rolls right before dinner so once again I am typing while slightly uncomfortable. But I'll live with it. I mean I did go for a run today.