Husband doesn't like breakfast food. Well, that's not entirely true - he likes bacon and eggs and hamsteak and biscuits. But during the week, there isn't really time to cook those things, unless we have breakfast for dinner. So most of the time he eats leftovers for breakfast.
Saturday I made goulash. Sort of. It was sort of goulash. But it was good. And there was a serving left over. Sunday night, I started thinking that the goulash would be nice to take for lunch. And then I started thinking that I really wanted that goulash for lunch on Monday. I thought about asking Husband to not eat it for breakfast, but that sounded kinda bossy and greedy. Mostly because I'm bossy and I was being greedy.
So on Monday morning, I got up and packed my lunch first thing. Usually I pack my lunch right before I leave the house, but if I waited, then there was a chance that Husband might eat the goulash. And I couldn't have that, now could I? I was quite pleased with myself for being so sneaky.
But you know what? I totally suck at the whole passive-aggressive thing. And the Universe pretty much snaps back and slaps me in the face if I get out of line. So as I pulled into my parking spot at work, I glanced into the passenger seat and realized that my lunch kit wasn't there. I had left it on the kitchen counter, my coveted goulash sitting useless and spoiling.
That'll teach me.