The Salmon Tin. A Cautionary Tale.
Consider this if you will. There are very few things in this world that really shouldn't be messed with. But there are some things that are so sacred that they should never, ever be disturbed.
I present to you, The Salmon Tin. A Cautionary Tale.
The scene opens to a slightly messy kitchen in a suburban household in north-west Sydney. The early-pregnant wife and mother has just arrived home from work, ravenous for some lunch. She's been dreaming about making a lovely salmon sandwich for lunch since about 8am that morning.
Cut to the lounge room and the husband and toddler girl are playing together. Husband has been off work on holidays and taking on the duty of house husband. He's been doing a pretty good job of it too. Getting up early with toddler girl, keeping the kitchen relatively clean, cooking every night (which is not so different to when he's not on holidays) and getting the washing and shopping done.
We return to the kitchen and the wife has defrosted two pieces of bread in the microwave and is now looking in the pantry for the much sought-after salmon. She shifts boxes and cans and looks on every shelf. Her movements grow more and more frantic as the search lengthens. She's tired. She's hormonal. She's hungry and nauseous, all at the same time, thanks to the littleparasite miracle growing in her belly.
After looking through the same shelves and coming up empty handed her hormones and temper get the better of her.
"Where the fuck is the salmon!" she shrieks at the top of her lungs.
The husband enquires from the lounge "The tinned salmon?".
"Yes, the tinned salmon" she screeches, "the two tins of salmon I bought the other day to have on a sandwich for lunch, where are they."
She prays that she's wrong. That the answer she knows is inevitably coming from her garbage-disposal husband will somehow, please, be different to what she knows to be truth.
"I ate them" he calls back, unaware of the rage that is about to be unleashed because of those three small words.
"THAT WAS MY LUNCH!!!! WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT NOW??? I'M STAAAAAAARVING!!!!!!!!".
Cue Aldi coffee machine coffee pods being thrown violently around the kitchen, cans being pegged so hard against the back on the pantry that they are dented. Other food stuffs vollying all over the kitchen as she blindly throws them about. Pantry door slamming.
The gates of hell have been unleashed, and this pregnant, hormonal and hungry wife is in the throes of a full-blown meltdown. All because of some tinned salmon. And a husband who eats more than should be humanly possible.
Fade to black.
What do we learn from this tale of rage and woe?
Never, ever eat a hormonal, pregnant woman's food. No matter how many other things are in the pantry that she may like, do not ever assume that you can eat those two tins of salmon that she had so desperately been craving, that she can have something else.
Because hell hath no fury like a hungry, pregnant woman, and if you know whats good for you, and want to continue having a pair of balls, don't ever eat a pregnant woman's food without asking her first! Because if you do, be prepared to see a tantrum of epic proportions, that makes even the toddler of the house shake her head in dismay.
Next time we'll learn about why the worst idea in the world is to ask your pregnant, hungry and hormonal wife why she is over-reacting so badly to a tin of salmon being eaten.
Linking this post up with those lovely lizards over at The Lounge for this weeks link-up theme, Adult Tantrums, hosted by the awesome RoboMum.
I present to you, The Salmon Tin. A Cautionary Tale.
The scene opens to a slightly messy kitchen in a suburban household in north-west Sydney. The early-pregnant wife and mother has just arrived home from work, ravenous for some lunch. She's been dreaming about making a lovely salmon sandwich for lunch since about 8am that morning.
Cut to the lounge room and the husband and toddler girl are playing together. Husband has been off work on holidays and taking on the duty of house husband. He's been doing a pretty good job of it too. Getting up early with toddler girl, keeping the kitchen relatively clean, cooking every night (which is not so different to when he's not on holidays) and getting the washing and shopping done.
We return to the kitchen and the wife has defrosted two pieces of bread in the microwave and is now looking in the pantry for the much sought-after salmon. She shifts boxes and cans and looks on every shelf. Her movements grow more and more frantic as the search lengthens. She's tired. She's hormonal. She's hungry and nauseous, all at the same time, thanks to the little
After looking through the same shelves and coming up empty handed her hormones and temper get the better of her.
{Image Source} |
"Where the fuck is the salmon!" she shrieks at the top of her lungs.
The husband enquires from the lounge "The tinned salmon?".
"Yes, the tinned salmon" she screeches, "the two tins of salmon I bought the other day to have on a sandwich for lunch, where are they."
She prays that she's wrong. That the answer she knows is inevitably coming from her garbage-disposal husband will somehow, please, be different to what she knows to be truth.
"I ate them" he calls back, unaware of the rage that is about to be unleashed because of those three small words.
"THAT WAS MY LUNCH!!!! WHAT THE HELL AM I SUPPOSED TO EAT NOW??? I'M STAAAAAAARVING!!!!!!!!".
Cue Aldi coffee machine coffee pods being thrown violently around the kitchen, cans being pegged so hard against the back on the pantry that they are dented. Other food stuffs vollying all over the kitchen as she blindly throws them about. Pantry door slamming.
The gates of hell have been unleashed, and this pregnant, hormonal and hungry wife is in the throes of a full-blown meltdown. All because of some tinned salmon. And a husband who eats more than should be humanly possible.
Fade to black.
What do we learn from this tale of rage and woe?
Never, ever eat a hormonal, pregnant woman's food. No matter how many other things are in the pantry that she may like, do not ever assume that you can eat those two tins of salmon that she had so desperately been craving, that she can have something else.
Because hell hath no fury like a hungry, pregnant woman, and if you know whats good for you, and want to continue having a pair of balls, don't ever eat a pregnant woman's food without asking her first! Because if you do, be prepared to see a tantrum of epic proportions, that makes even the toddler of the house shake her head in dismay.
{Image Credit} |
Next time we'll learn about why the worst idea in the world is to ask your pregnant, hungry and hormonal wife why she is over-reacting so badly to a tin of salmon being eaten.
Linking this post up with those lovely lizards over at The Lounge for this weeks link-up theme, Adult Tantrums, hosted by the awesome RoboMum.
Comments
Listen well, dear husbands, to these wise words!
Thanks for linking with us X
Post a Comment