Cooking and Cleaning Up

Rick likes to cook. I, unfortunately, I like to eat. 
It is a terrible combo.  Be careful what you wish for ladies.
I'd prefer a man who did laundry, ironed and knew how to clean floors.
Or maybe I should say it this way, a man who can see that the floors are in dire need of cleaning and that the pile of laundry won't do itself. 
My man has good eyesight until it comes to cleaning and chores.
He is the one who will clean the bathroom to a sparkling shine. But outside of the bathroom he is either blind or wears blinders. 

Rick is home a lot right now although still working. 
He just wants to cook, eat and drink.
Yesterday I walked to the mailbox. 
I came back to him tearing apart a rotisserie chicken purchased at the grocery store and making soup. A VAT of soup. 
I was planning to use this chicken for something else but okay.
He keeps telling me we can freeze the soup. I know but we still have leftovers from all of last week and you're cooking for a damn crowd.

My new routine is this -
He cooks all day and I clean up after him all day.

We have coffee.
I make him breakfast or he gets his own.
I do dishes and wipe down the island and stove etc.
Basically, just clean the kitchen.

He is now talking about lunch at 11:30a.
You just ate buddy! You can't be hungry.
Finally, lunchtime rolls around and he is making a meal like it's his last.
Whoa, I tell him if you eat this then what is going on with dinner?
Okay, he says I will just make one burger. (he was going to add tator tots to this as well as 2 burgers until I suggested he may wish to rethink that)

He makes a burger in the cast iron skillet and builds himself a big fat burger with the fixin's .  He has grease everywhere - stovetop, countertop, microwave. 
I don't know how he does this. Or how he doesn't see this!
I do the dishes, clean the stove and everywhere he has essentially been and I clean the kitchen island. Again.

No shit, 15 minutes go by and he asks what I want for dinner.
I told him to stop eating and thinking about food.
How about you go to the garage and finish the building of the A/C vent cover?
Okay, he says, as he grabs a handful of cashews. You know he needs those cashews, he could darn right starve on that walk to the garage.

He comes in at just past 5pm. I have come downstairs from the office and just wish to "be" for a few minutes. 
You know just to decompress after talking to customers all day. 
I am on the floor with the dog when he walks in.
He asks, "Are you making dinner or am I?"
So now we are eating early bird special? It is just past 5 o'clock babe. 
You ate lunch at 1pm. Seriously you are out of control.
He goes to shower off the wood dust etc he has all over him.

He comes downstairs and says I'll start dinner if you want.
I ask him to sit down.
I have a come to Jesus meeting with him.
You can't become that old guy in retirement who eats himself to death.
What is going on with you?
Stress.
I know.  But I think I'd prefer an alcoholic. (just kidding of course!)
He laughed and my comment did the trick. He waited a bit to ask about dinner again. You know like 40 minutes.

I suggest fish tacos. He loves fish tacos. (I hate them) Also less fattening.
He whines we have no avocados.
I asked if they were good without the avocado because you have eaten them without before. He nods it will be fine.
As I stand in front of the refrigerator with the door open I see all the Tupperware containers of leftovers. I suggest we might consider leftovers and save the fish tacos for another night.
Thankfully he agrees that may be the way to go.

I made a chuck roast in the crockpot with all the veggies in a wine and beef broth stock that was incredibly good. We had a lot leftover. Even mashed potatoes and gravy were left over. I ask Rick what leftovers he'd like. He said to bring them all out. I refused. I reheated the roast with veggies and mashed potatoes. He will have that. If I put all the leftovers out, he will eat it all.  There was enough leftover roast and trimmings for 4 people.

We settle in after a long after-dinner walk with Izzy to watch some TV.
At 9p he tells me he wants a little somethin' somethin'.
I laugh and think he meant sex and I turn to look at him. 
I realize he means food. He asked, do we still have ice cream?
OMG. Who is this man? 
I told him the walk to the freezer would do him good. I don't know.
I knew we still had some. I haven't had any since we brought it home.
But he was annoying me and I thought he could get off his butt and go see for himself.  He asked if he could get me a bowl. Nope, I didn't want any. (ok that isn't true I did want some but I didn't want to eat it because I am not moving as before and I am eating too much of late) As I have mentioned here many times I really have to watch my intake to maintain chubby.  

Honest to God this man needs to go to work or he won't fit through the door to leave the house. And I am seriously tired of cleaning up the kitchen all day. 
He told me to let it go, ya'll know I can't leave food all over the stovetop and crumbs on the counters. My head will explode. 
So apparently our new thing is, he will continually cook 24/7 for a crowd of people in a home of 2 and I will continually clean up after him and eat great food. 

First world problems at best.