Bad Wife

It's Valentine's Day today. We don't mark it. I have concluded that Valentine's Day is marked according to the preference of the female in the relationship: if she says no, it's no. If she says yes, it's yes. This explains why my circuits class tonight was half empty, and the half that were missing were the men.

Anyway. When I got in Mr Z expressed that his intention had been to cook a surprise three course meal with prawn cocktail and everything, but that the Mitten* was ill and he had to take her to the vet. When he got back, he said he'd just have soup or something, so I decided I'd get pizza from the supermarket after class. I thought I'd pop home first though, and discovered he was part way through cooking an extremely healthy low fat Chinese stir fry, and had concocted 100-Island-Dressing for the prawns in an attempt to meet my health-kick criteria.

And so what did I do? Well, I pouted, because I had set my heart on pizza by then. So he is going out to get me pizza while I have a bath. This is troo devotion. After I had pouted, he showed me the oven-cooked pork, and the star shaped carrots, and had me taste the 100-Island-Dressing, and so then I got bad wife guilt for being so ungrateful. I said sorry, a lot. "Oh, go and blog about it or something!" he said, before peeling me another grape.

Now I have to think of a way to make it up to him....


* She's fine now.