Beef, It's What's For Dinner

Yesterday I practically gave you a glimpse into my soul, or a small part of it at least. Today, my "glimpse" will be about as deep as a kiddie pool. Don't judge. They all can't be deep, right?

Last night, after painting at our new shop (more to come on that tomorrow), I came home at about 9:30pm to catch up with the Hubs for a few minutes before we crashed for the night. I know he's a big boy, but I'm always curious and somewhat worried about what he makes for dinner when I'm not there, so after discussing the details of our progress at said store, I asked "so what'd you have for dinner?"

"Beef" he responds.

"Beef? From where?" I ask quizzically.

"From the fridge." Duh, his eyes state.

"Hmmm, we don't have beef in the fridge." Growing more intrigued.

"Yes, we do. I ate it. It was in a Tupperware container." Duh-ish eyes again and all mater of fact this time.

"Babe, I haven't cooked beef in about 3-4 months. Are you sure it was beef? Was it pork roast maybe? What else was with it? I rarely make beef."  Panic is starting to set in. Did this man just eat 3 month old beef? How have I missed that in the fridge for months??? Did it not smell? Was it not wearing a fuzzy green sweater by now???

"It was BEEF. Just beef. AND I ATE IT. The container is in the dishwasher if you want to investigate." And now he's over it and turning back to the same episode of the Big Bang Theory that we've watched approximately 42 times since I moved in.

Me-checking in the dishwasher to solve this odd mystery....

"Umm, that was chicken, babe. And was about 3 week old chicken. I planned to through it out tonight for trash day tomorrow." I reply while trying to act like I'm not gagging inside or quickly calculating how many hours he has until food poisoning strikes.

"Well, it tasted like beef to me. It had a beef-like texture to it, and I ate it all."  Boom

Me- gagging, while questioning his ability to make wise decisions, and still gagging.

Well, okay then, folks. There you have it. The beefy taste and texture should've served as his first, giant red flag. Along with the fact that I almost never make beef at home. But nope, he sure did consume about a pound of chicken that he swears is beef. Now I officially know why I worry a bit about what he eats for dinner when I'm not around.

I do guarantee the next time he sees "beef" in our fridge, he'll examine it a little more thoroughly. I know I will!