Because my husband let the kids eat my special waffles this morning, I am going to poke some fun at him. (The waffles were gluten-free-vegan and when my husband said, “Well, you should have put a note on them that they were special!” I pointed to THE BOX.)
The other day I was at work and I got a text from my husband about dinner. I had left instructions for him to brown some meat.
“How do I brown meat?”
Seriously? Put it in a pan and cook it.
I thought the crisis was resolved until he texted again.
“How do I know when it’s done?”
When it’s BROWN.
Honestly, how didn’t he starve to death before we were married?