This is why we love each other

Some of my SAHM sisters has taken it upon them to make sure that there is always dinner on the table (or at least in a Tupperware in the fridge) for their husbands when they get home from work. This is their part of the deal. He brings home the bacon, she cooks it and places it nicely on a plate for him.
I didn't sign that contract so my husband can't always expect dinner (nor can he expect the kids to always be bathed, in pyjamas, homework done and bed time story out of the way but that's another blop post).
I usually cook something easy for the kids, like pasta or organic sausages with veg. Their schedule is different from ours. They have activities, homework and are hungry earlier than we are. Reheated pasta tastes awful, so there is no point in me cooking enough for myself and my husband to have later. And I'll be damned if I cook two sets of meals every night, I love my personal time after the kids are in bed far too much for that.

- They have it good, he sometimes says, referring to one of our male friends. She's such a good wife to him.
Those of you who don't know my husband might think he's serious but those of you who do know him, knows that he's not.
- Is there dinner, or should I pick something up on my way home? he asks.
- Take out? I retort, more often than I should.
We end up eating scrambled eggs and salad in front of the TV. Or tea and sandwiches.
- You are the best wife, my husband tells me. I don't expect you to cook for me. I don't want you to be one of those wives.
If he really means it, or if he's just telling me what he thinks I want to hear, I don't care to dwell on.
As far as I'm concerned, we're a perfect match.