When I got home from work I put a ziplock of frozen chicken in the sink to thaw to cook for dinner.
When it thawed I went to get it out of the sink and thought it looked a little weird. I mean since when was chicken so pink?
And then I realized it wasn’t chicken. It was pork chops. I really need to start labeling things before I put them in the freezer apparently!
And while I’m talking about moderately idiotic goofy things I’ve done this week, there’s always this…
Let me start by explaining something. Gouda currently takes half a steroid every three days. So avoid confusion we posted a calendar near his chow bowl and marked the days this month that he’ll get his pill so all we have to do is look at the calendar instead of trying to remember when the last time he took his pill was. It’s genius in its simplicity, right?
So the other night the following conversation may or may not have taken place between me and Nate:
Nate (looking at the calendar): No pill for Gouda tonight!
Me (looking at the same calendar): What do you mean? It’s Tuesday, he gets the pill tonight.
Nate (looking at me): Are you serious?
Me (very serious): Umm, yes. Tuesday, it says “PILL” right there. *Points to calendar for emphasis*
Nate (still looking at me): …
Me (noticing I was pointing at Tuesday the 13th and not Tuesday the 6th): Oh. I guess all Tuesdays are not interchangeable. Huh. Carry on!
This comes from me being unable to keep my big fat mouth shut when I think I’m right about something, even if I’m not.