Here's why:
After everything I went through yesterday so that Dan would not have to eat Cod Fajitas, I received a phone call from him at around 6:30.
*Keep in mind, he already knew I was cooking dinner, what we were having, and had a good guffaw at my expense with all of his co-workers...
Dan: "Hey, baby, my mom is going to take me out to dinner tonight after practice."
Me: *longggggggggggggggggggg pause* "She is? Oh. Um, okay... where are you going?"
(Because you'd damn well better be going to Texas Roadhouse.)
Dan: "McDonalds."
Yeah. That happened.
Fortunately for him, I was too tired to kill him by the time he got home, so he's lived to see another day.
Meanwhile, he just called me and asked what's for dinner.
Me: "Fajitas."
Dan: "Again...?"
Seriously.
This just in: He is going to be served fajitas for breakfast, lunch and dinner. Until they're gone. Word.
Damn straight!
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