This morning while reading through my blog list Supreme Leader shouted something from upstairs where she was cleaning the bathroom. Something about packages and ovens. I wandered out to the kitchen shouting back for clarification although as soon as I saw the oven and oven mitts the part I did hear clicked so I filtered out what she was yelling again and removed a baking sheet with two foil wrapped packages, one big and one small.
Twenty minutes later when I'm in the shower the door bursts open and the shower curtain is torn back à la Psycho. "What part of 'small package' did you not understand?" asks Supreme Leader. She was smiling, but I think it was more of a primal teeth baring gesture threatening imminent danger than a loving 'oh look, my husband is naked in the shower' kind of smile. It was at that moment I also realized I should have turned the oven off twenty minutes ago when I removed the baking pan.
*No husbands were hurt in the making of this post. The 'blood spatter' is actually beet juice. It was close though, oh so close.