At the stroke of dinner-time last night the W declared Pantry Week officially over. A somewhat early end to Pantry Week, but I am not complaining at all. My sense is that she just did not want to eat 2 slices of bread and an onion for dinner like I was planning. Finally we decided where to go . I say “we” decided where to go because she actually let me decide where we’d go. Since she’s been talking about this one place, that’s where I assumed she wanted to go…so that’s where we went.
Of course we had to get ready and dress for dinner. I showered and got dressed. My outfit–a green Dominican Republic t-shirt to show my solidarity with the Island of Hispaniola, khaki pants, and a burgundy sweater over my t-shirt. I thought somewhat nice, but not overly or uncomfortably formal. I was all set to roll out the door when the W says, “You have to change. I don’t like what you are wearing.”
Because of this project I tell her, “Fine. But you have to go pick out what you want me to wear. Otherwise everything I pick out will be bad.” I’m mildly frustrated because 1) I didn’t think my outfit was bad. 2) I just fixed my hair and taking off the sweater would totally mess it up beyond repair. My hair is finicky and has its own issues. Trust me, I know what I am talking about here.
She comes down with a white t-shirt and 2 different sweaters. After a brief fashion show it is settled that i wear the white t-shirt and a blue sweater (one that I figured out I got in 1997 while in London. Remember my earlier post where I said I don’t ever get to get new clothes?). Finally we were ready to go, and yes my hair is in mild afro mode after taking t-shirts and sweaters on and off…and then she makes me change my shoes because my loafers were “nerdy.”
Finally we make it to dinner. A great local spot and a great end to Pantry Week. We shared a risotto appetizer, some wine, I had roasted duck for the main course, and we shared some cheesecake for dessert. I even got a free espresso because the waitress forgot to bring it to me with the cheesecake and she had already brought us the bill. Pantry week is over–Hallelujah!–but there is still no food in the house. We need to go shopping and I can only hope that will be today.
Finally, as we were sleeping last night I got up to pee around 2 am. When I got back in the bedroom and laid back down in the bed…always the best feeling after having to get up in the middle of the night…and she all of a sudden says to me, “I can’t believe you didn’t blow your nose while you were in there.” So I get back up, out of bed and head for the bathroom one more time…
