I was sitting on the bus heading home, and so glad it's the weekend...not that my week sucked; quite the opposite, but the first week of the month with loads of new students always takes a lot of energy. (Plus, there was epic cat puking last night. And as I was cleaning it up, an epically stinky litter-box poo. I changed the litter as soon as I finished with the floor...and while I was washing my hands, the cat puked again. While I was cleaning that up, he peed in the fresh litter. Not the most fun evening ever!) So there I was on the bus, tired and ready to be in my pajamas for as much as the weekend as might be humanly possible. My phone rang: Mr.Q getting off work.
Me: "Hey you! How was your day?"
Him: "Butter chicken."
Me: "Whaaaa?"
Him: "Butter. Chicken. I want some."
I knew I married me a smart man. And we make a great team: I called in the order, he picked it up on his way home.
Now: drinking an Apricot Wheat Ale, with a happy belly and leftover shahi paneer for breakfast tomorrow. I do love the way he thinks!
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