Noodles & Beans

I have made nothing but chicken for the past month for dinner. I have considered opening Amber’s House of 101 Chickens. It tastes different every time. It is good every time. (I am a good cook.)

Side note: I have lost 10 pounds. I still have a ghetto booty though. I have always had a ghetto booty. I think it was the only reason I would float in water. Blue, you should look into getting one of those.

Last week I made noodles with the chicken. There were ranch style beans, too. I made plenty of noodles for both J and I. He didn’t want any. He said noodles don’t go with chicken.

So tonight, I made chicken with diced tomatoes. I put water in a pan for some noodles. I paused. I knew for some reason that if I didn’t make enough noodles for him, he would want some. (It’s called Murphy’s Law.) So I yelled over to the living room, “J, do you want noodles?”

What did he say? He said yes. (Of course.) So I laughed. I said, “I knew it! I almost didn’t make noodles for you because you said noodles and chicken don’t go together but tonight they do.”

Apparently it was because the chicken had tomatoes tonight. The other night, there were beans on the side and noodles and beans cannot go on the same plate.

Whatever. While we were eating, he bit hard on his lip. It hurt and he yelled. For some reason, I lost my appetite. Yelling while I am eating makes me queasy, apparently.

Last night he had bit his lip while eating and I asked him if he had learned anything. Last night he said, “Yeah, I learned my wife is a jackass.” Apparently he didn’t learn not to bite his lip. I had to kiss it better.

P.S. It is rude to whistle for no reason. The refs were whistle happy tonight.

P.P.S. I taped the raisins shut so they wouldn't get stale. I was being compulsive this morning. J is worried about me.