Domesticity

Since I am staying home and taking care of Max while Debra is at work, I have decided to make an attempt at cooking meals and having a proper sit-down dinner, which has never happened much before.

So on Tuesday night I grilled some delicious salmon. Debra (who generally is sort of a vegetarian and dislikes fish, especially salmon) ate some and was happy. I was encouraged.

On Wednesday night, I made some fresh tortellini with red sauce from the jar (fancy red sauce she got at Fresh Fields, not Ragu). I set the table with plates and silverware and glasses. Debra ate that and was happy. I was very encouraged, except when I was cleaning the table I discovered the glass I set out for her was unused. She was drinking from a glass she got herself. I pointed it out to her. It seems the concept of place settings has been alien to our home for so long she thought it was just a dirty glass that had been sitting on the table.

On Thursday night, I went all out. I actually cooked a classic family recipe and told Debra it was a surprise. She immediately became very suspicious and said she was not eating anything that had canned tuna and canned cream of mushroom soup in it.



I told her she should think about the things she likes and not worry so much about what might be in there that she doesn't like. She forgot about the Velveeta.

Anyway, she wouldn't touch it, and made her own noodles with cottage cheese.

Max is still cute.



He likes the dog a lot. If you sit him down on the bed, the dog will lie down next to him, close enough so that Max can see him. Then Max will furiously try to crawl over and touch the dog. It's pretty funny, except I feel bad for him that he can't move.