Grace should be my middle name.

Location: United States

Monday, April 18, 2005


Friday night, I cooked a really nice Italian dinner, complete with chicken, meatballs, orzo, 3 colors of bell peppers, brocolli and a magnum bottle of Pino Noir. The whole cooking thing went very well, and was fairly clean. As opposed to my usual meals, which leave the kitcken with evidence of an explosion. I mean, it wasn't immaculate. There was some sauce around. But still. It looked pretty good.

Anyway, we at late, around 10 pm, but I had helped myself to a few glasses of wine while cooking. After dinner, and some nice conversation (wink, wink), I ended up dozing on the couch, along with my dinner companion. Eventually, he said he was leaving, but got virtually no response from me (I worked HARD cooking, Ok?). So he locked up the doors and windows and made me stand up to say goodbye so that he knew that I'd for sure lock the door.

The next morning, when I woke up and went to make myself some coffee, I realized that the kitchen was clean. There were no dishes, no food and no sauce! I don't mind making dinner for someone who cleans up after me. I might just have to keep him around.


Blogger Einstein said...

wow! where can I get a man like that? seriously he's a keeper.

2:36 PM  
Blogger Beatrix Kiddo said...

MAJOR extra credit points for that one.

5:12 PM  
Blogger ts said...

what kinda pansy cleans up after a woman? isn't that her job? J/K! sound's like keeper dude!

5:40 PM  

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