We had an interesting episode tonight. After I was gone for about a week a few weeks ago, dragging my feet about coming back b/c I was enjoying the fact that I didn't have to worry about feeding DH for the first time in ages, DH made a huge effort to "get out the dinner." He planned and shopped for a week's worth of dinners, which stretched out to almost two weeks. Pretty good.
His plans and food ran out this weekend, so I mentioned that we needed to do it again. I asked him not to stay at work for too long, so we could go out shopping. I asked him to leave no later than 5. He got home at 6. We planned and shopped, at least part way. We got what we could at Trader Joe's, then we went to Safeway to get the rest for tonight's dinner. We'll hit our local vegetable stand tomorrow.
Dinner took about an hour and a half total to cook, which was half an hour longer than I thought it would take, since we doubled the recipe. It took longer to cook. By the time dinner was ready, it was 9 PM.
I should mention at this point that I am not a stickler for dinner, or for eating together, or having any kind of formality whatsoever surrounding dinner. DH does, though.
By the time we actually got everything ready to eat, things started going wrong for DH. First, our water filter came off the faucet- I'm sure because he was hungry and impatient and too rough with turning it from "filter" to "unfilter." He threw it on the counter, and haphazardly began washing his hands, splashing soap into his bowl of drained pasta and ruining it. At this point he is incredibly hungry, angry, and impatient, so he announces he's having cereal. He can't wait to open the cereal box like a normal person, so he rips it into shreds. He proceeds to eat two bowls of cereal and a container of Greek yogurt (i.e. full fat) within 5 minutes.
Okay. You're hungry. I get it.
I kind of can't help but laugh at the poor guy, though, because tearing a cereal box to shreds because you can't open it right now is such a 4 year old temper-tantrumy thing to do. He points out that I shouldn't laugh because I colored all over a wastepaper basket that I was given as a gift because I was angry that it didn't have the right Care Bear on it. I said, "Yes, but that was when I was four!"
He was not amused, so he went off and now he's sulking in the bedroom. I'm actually not mad at him, but I disapprove of a 27 year old man behaving like a four year old. So I'm letting him have his space, and ignoring him, kind of like I would a four year old.
Seriously, though. What is so hard about eating that cereal and yogurt while we were watching The West Wing? I am not concerned about him spoiling his appetite, and even if he did, I wouldn't care at all.
I think he doesn't understand that this is why I relish time away from him. It's nice to have a break from his seeming inability to take care of himself properly. He has a mother- I don't need to be one too.