Don't you just love Christmas?
Everywhere you look...wreaths, ornaments, lights, presents, elves, Santa...I could go on and on!
This is a very special Christmas for Noah and me as it is our first as husband and wife (I'll pause for the "awe"). We put up our very first tree and stockings (even one for Jeter). We put on Christmas music and spent the entire night decorating. Noah even danced with me a little (even though I know he thinks it's corny). It makes me realize how truly lucky I am to have such an amazing husband, a cute house, and the world's best dog :)
Fast forward one night...
We have no plans for the night which is good because I'm in a terrible mood for no reason (if you are a girl, you will understand this ... if you are a boy, you won't understand it and you never will). I call Noah on the way home to inform him we have nothing to cook for dinner and I am not about to go to the grocery store (it's cold and raining...and I DESPISE the grocery shopping when I'm in a good mood). I decide it's definitely a Chinese night. I'll go home and put on my pjs and engorge myself with moo goo gai pan.
As I walk into the kitchen (dreaming about snow peas), there's Noah with groceries.
"I'm going to make grilled chicken and put it on a salad."
Now normally I would give him a huge kiss and say, "that is so sweet of you." I mean he's cooking and he's making something nutritious!
But not tonight. No, tonight I am a bad mood bear.
All I can think about is the fact that I don't get to waste 3 days of caloric intake on my Chinese. No, I HAVE to eat healthy. I bite my tongue. That's a lie...here's what I really do...
"Babe, you are going to mess up the entire kitchen. Which means that I will have to clean it. I don't want to clean tonight. I'm not feeling well and I'm not in the mood." (I'm such a bitch).
Noah assures me he will be neat. I ignore him and stomp up the stairs to change into my pjs.
The meal was delicious and nutritious! It actually put me in a much better mood (maybe I was just hungry all along). I felt terrible for being so nasty to Noah and spend the rest of the night making it up to him. When Noah goes into the office, I decide to sneak into the kitchen and clean up the entire mess before he notices.
OH MY GOSH. He managed to get olive oil EVERYWHERE. I guess he used the olive oil to cook the chicken. He must have had the burner up way too high because there was oil burnt to the stove top, on the microwave and all over the counter. Just as I finish assessing the damage, Noah walks in afraid of what I may say to him now. All I can do is laugh. I remind myself of how lucky I am and how insignificant a little mess is. Besides, Noah is so cute I can't resist myself (I'll pause for you to gag).
Most importantly, you never know when Santa is watching...