It's taken my wife almost five years but she's finally caught on!
All last weekend I never let pass the opportunity to remind Andrew that I'd be eating ribs and suchlike here in Houston whilst he'd be subsisting on the normal pedestrian fare we eat at home. Which isn't to say that my wife is a slouch at cooking; she does quite well on our budget. Unfortunately for her and Andrew I'm a picky bastard; I can't handle 'sloppy joes' or Lasagne. The first because they're just... vile! The second because as a general rule I'm not on for anything containing cooked tomatoes. Like I said, I'm a picky bastard.
Sonya has gotten into the habit, when I'm away, of dishing up all the kinds of meals I turn my nose up at. It's not quite as bad as it sounds but we have a well established rule; I won't lie and say something was good if it wasn't. That way lies a year of having it served up, with the secret dread as I drive home that tonight will be 'the night' followed by the shamefaced confession that I find it dreadful. Followed by the inevitable question 'well, why didn't you say??'. I'm sure you can see where that goes...
So there I was last weekend, smugly imagining that I'd be eating high on the hog, on the company dollar what's more, while they consumed Lasagne.
My side was fulfilled; ribs Tuesday night, excellent seafood last night, brisket tonight. But they got me good and proper! When I rang home Tuesday night the call happened to be during dinner. And they were having ribs! I could see the silly grin on Andrews face as Sonya told me. And they assured me they were excellent ribs!
Methinks she's finally figured out how I tick. Now I have to change to keep one step ahead. You really wouldn't be dead for quids would you?