Foul Balls

I'm tired of talking about my drama. The school department and the bus company and the insurance company and the trip to Boston tomorrow and all the other CRAP I deal with on a daily basis.

So instead, here's a funny story about balls.

Last Thursday, CS made dinner for us with some leftovers she found in the fridge. The main dish was a modified version of Italian rice balls. She's a great cook who can improvise easily, and because of our limited groceries, she had to. Instead of Italian rice, she used sushi rice; instead of mozarella, she used cheddar. Her skill is that, even though she is making substitutions, things still taste good.

I got home after work and she had the rice balls and some other side dishes all prepared for Jete and I to eat. Unfortunately, Jete had to work overtime and we never sat down to a real meal. I was busy with the boys, so I just snacked. I had a couple Italian-style quesadillas that she had made, and I tried one of the rice balls. I thought it was very good, but I was too full to eat any more than one.

Jete got home at 9:00 PM and was too tired to eat much. He just finished the quesadillas I had been snacking on. I wrapped up the rice balls and put them back in the fridge.

Fast forward to Friday. Leaving work, I was already a little hungry. Jete was going out to dinner with Just Plain Mike, so I'd be home alone with the boys again. I was trying to figure out what I could have for dinner, when I remembered the rice balls. I'd have those.

I'm sure you can probably figure out where this is going.

After my half hour commute, I was looking forward to dinner. I walked in the door, and the first thing I noticed was the empty container on the counter. The rice ball dish.

I walked into the living room. Jete was sitting on the couch. I was trying to compose myself. Maybe there was a reasonable explanation.

"Did you eat the rice balls?" I asked.

Jete looked at me, puzzled. "Yeah. Why?"

This is when I lost it a little bit.

"But you're GOING OUT TO DINNER!"

"Not until 7:00. I couldn't wait until then. I was hungry." It was 5:30.

"Why didn't you have a bowl of cereal or something? What am I supposed to eat?"

"I don't know... I just finished them 2 minutes ago. I thought I was doing you a favor by finishing them off. So they wouldn't sit in the fridge forever."

"FOREVER? They were only in there for TWELVE HOURS!"

"I don't know what to say. I'm sorry."

Sorry wasn't cutting it with me. "There's no other food in the house. You get to go out. You get to go to a Real Restaurant and have a Real Meal and on top of all that - you go and eat the only food in the house. What about me?"

He was starting to get mad, too. "What do you want me to do. I said I was sorry!"

I tried to lay the guilt trip on."You know, I was really looking forward to them. The whole ride home. All day."

"How was I supposed to know you wanted them?"

"You could have asked me! You could have called me!"

He started to turn it on me. "Well why didn't you tell me you wanted them?!"

"What was I supposed to say? Throw it into daily conversation? Call you up at lunch and say, 'I can't wait to eat those balls tonight?'"

Then. He started to laugh. ARGHH. That just made me more angry.

"Fine, laugh. Whatever. I'll just go eat some CRACKERS or something." I stormed out of the living room.

He followed me into the kitchen, still sort of laughing. He tried being nice to me. I turned my back to him and opened and slammed cabinet doors.

Then he said the thing that pushed me right over the edge:

"If it's any consolation, I didn't even like them."

Oh. My. God. I think there was steam coming out of my ears.

I hate getting mad over food. I worry it's the red flag you are a Pathetic Fat Person when food means this much to you. But I couldn't help it. I was So. Mad.

How would you feel if your spouse/partner/roommate did this to you? Let's recap:

1. He ate the rest of the balls without checking with me first.
2. He did this less than two hours before he was going out to dinner.
3. He did this less than two hours before I was going to be stuck home alone with the boys and no food in the house.
4. He knew that there was no other food in the house.
5. He didn't even like them.
6. That didn't stop him from finishing off the entire dish (at least 6 good size balls).

Now that a week's gone by, I've forgiven him. Pretty much. Even if he did force me to admit I was looking forward to eating balls.