The culprit: The Chocolate-Dipped Strawberries
Two nights ago my husband (I cannot event dare write the endearment yet) discovered these strawberry goodies in the fridge. Those belonged to my brother in law and his girlfriend, they made it for themselves. Unfortunately, he got a taste of it and wanted to eat some more. He decided to buy strawberries last night so we could make some to replace the strawberries he ate from my brother-in-law's plate and to make him the strawberries that he could call his own without the guilt of eating a lot. My first time melting a chocolate, i messed it up because a recipe said to put some cream, I sensed he was becoming impatient and declared to stop the making at the end of the fourth piece. I flared up, but I did not say anything. I finished cleaning up the kitchen and confined myself to my closed private world. I had been avoiding to let this side of me go out for a couple of months already but last night just triggered my horns.
In times like this I'd rather not speak to him at all. I was avoiding the sight of him inside our room and it was not easy. The feeling is just too overpowering. I was trying to think out what could have happened along the process of making that effing chocolate-dipped strawberries that lead me to develop this feeling. My horns are just up above me and I couldn't keep it to a place where I could control it. I am letting things be. I need to cool down.
For one, I did not feel good about him cutting down his self-made thrill when I was eager to learn how to make it not for myself, but for him who wants to eat it. It was his idea. For the record, I don't like strawberries and I just can't allow myself to eat chocolates. Another thing was, he made me feel like I really suck in the kitchen, which of course is very common to my knowledge, but was there really a need to make me feel that I REALLY REALLY SUCK AT COOKING, even for the fact that there I was, an eager wife in the process of learning something new for her husband? Lastly, I did not feel he appreciated the effort at all, and he proved to me that his impatience could not make us both work as a "team" in the kitchen. There. I'd stick to these three sentiments.
I curse this chocolate-dipped strawberries. I am not forcing this little issue to last for some more hours but I couldn't bring myself to sanity. My phone is right in front of me but I have no plan of sending out a text.
I recognize the fact that I throw tantrums on overly nonsense matters. This could be the third time in our overall relationship and I insist on believing this is just nothing. I know how difficult it is to deal with me.
No comments:
Post a Comment