To Eat Or Not To Eat? That Is The Question...

I knew Monday’s dinner was too good to be true. Our baked spaghetti was a hit, and I felt pressure to top it the following night. So I thought I’d fancy up the old faithful chicken patty.

Now the chicken patty is a brother to the salmon patty, but you use a can of chicken and self-rising flour instead of salmon and corn meal. (This idea came from a friend, and it was delicious at her house, and it’s always a winner with Chad!) But since I doctored up the baked spaghetti so much the night before, I thought I’d try my hand at making a fancier version of the chicken patty with parsley, onion flakes, and bread crumbs.

Note to self: Don’t ever do that again.

They kept falling apart, and apparently I used too many onion flakes. Chad wouldn’t even eat them. And he said, “Don’t even pack that in my lunch tomorrow! I’m about half sick! Just fix me a ham sandwich!”

Okay. Fine. Ham it is.

Morning arrived and I discovered the only problem with his request was that our ham had possibly soured in the fridge. It felt all slick and had a bit of a funky smell. But it was too late to do anything about it now! He was leaving in a few minutes! And he’s not one to eat peanut butter and jelly for lunch! Sooo…..

I made him the sandwich anyway! There! I said it! If he hadn’t criticized my dinner, he’d be eating a warm meal of chicken patties, scalloped potatoes, and stuffing! But no, that wasn’t fit to eat! (Which, by the way, he isn’t a huge fan of stuffing either, so I guess this meal was destined to fail from the start!)

And it’s not that I intended on him eating the sandwich. In my defense, I didn’t want to kill him. I just thought if worse came to worse, he might get a parasite or something. But my conscience got the better of me by lunchtime. I called his cell phone and confessed that “I thought the ham had gone bad,” and the sandwich was slung across the room at the break hall. In the end, he was forced to dine at Burger King.

Now understand my situation. If I would’ve told him that morning that I thought the meat was rancid, he would’ve been all wound up before he left for work. So I figured if I let him know when he wasn’t here, then he would be cooled off by the time he returned home. And I’m the heroine! I kept him from getting sick!

Anyway, tomorrow night I guess we’ll be having soup and grilled cheese. It’s kinda hard to screw that one up.