While cooking said eggies in a basket I reaffirmed my belief that I cannot cook, to save my life, in Cleveland. The yolk somehow broke while I was pouring it into the pan. This never happens to me, so of course it happens in Cleveland. Thankfully Fiancé isn’t picky and he didn’t care.
I somehow managed to get him to wash the pans, which made me feel like I was in Heaven. While sitting on the couch I started to think about what I could use the bacon for tomorrow. I decided to go ahead and make a BLT with my leftover avocado. Which the avocado, by the way, takes a BLT to whole other level of deliciousness.
And then I had an, “O crap!” moment and realized that I never put the bacon into a ziploc bag and in the refrigerator. Oops! So I quickly walked into the kitchen to find the plate that I had put the bacon on and to package it up.
Now, the amount of bacon that I had cooked was about two plates worth when it was all laid out. I, naturally, put a paper towel in between two layers of bacon as to only dirty one plate. I also only ate 4 pieces of bacon, which I would say was about one half of a plates worth.
I walked into the kitchen to find only 3 pieces of bacon left. The third piece was a small one too. This is when I then went out to the living room and yelled at him for eating all of the bacon since I was going to use it for my lunch tomorrow, and I also said, “You’re not allowed to eat anymore of this bacon!” He did a sad face, like all of his hopes and dreams had been crushed, and I walked back into the kitchen being sad that I only got 3 pieces for the next day.
I am currently looking for a mind reading class, so that he will no longer eat all of my bacon. I also found out, this morning, that there was an upside to not having a vent in the kitchen (I know, crazy, right?!). The condo still had a bacon sent to it!