Wife Log --261 Days to Go

According to the Knot, I have 346 things to do and 43 items overdue. Thank you, Internet.

Last night, I was cooking dinner --turkey sausage tossed with garlic, extra virgin olive oil, sauteed red pepper, and red onion served over angel hair pasta, while one of my fabulous bridesmaids had me help her with a job application on the computer. The Mister came over while I was cooking. Here's what happened:

The Mister comes in the kitchen to see me.* (*because there's food)
The Mister identifies the top of the red bell pepper that has been severed from the rest of the pepper and says, "Ooh."
"Don't touch it."
"Are you going to cook with it?"
"I was."
"No one cooks that part of the pepper." He's already reaching for it.
"Fine, take it."
The Mister takes the pepper to the side counter. He goes to the fridge. Without turning around I say, "Stay away from the butter."
Grinning like a child, The Mister ignores me and takes the tub of butter to the pepper top, which he promptly dips in the butter.
The Mister takes the buttered pepper tops to the salt and pepper next to the stove where garlic is heating in oil. After sprinkling salt and pepper on top of the pepper, The Mister dusts the remaining salt and pepper over the otherwise pure olive oil and garlic skillet. I scream.
Giggling and pleased, The Mister eats his peppers and dashes out of the kitchen.
"Butter?" I ask as the tub of Country Crock is still sitting on the counter where The Mister abandoned it.
"I thought you wanted me to get out of the kitchen," The Mister says using my own words against me.
I look at my bridesmaid, "Do you really want this?" I'm referring of course to a man, which my friend says she wants, but let's face it, a relationship isn't all dinner for two and dates of dancing the night away. No, that time in a relationship passes all to quickly, usually while you're still trying to figure out if you like your name with his last name.
"I have to go," my friend says quickly and leaves even faster.
Welcome to the rest of your life.

Those of you who know The Mister are probably laughing because you can see this happening, in fact most of you have probably already seen it happen! It really doesn't bother me too much when The Mister creeps into my tiny kitchen to snack while I'm cooking (admittedly, closing the fridge, putting things away, rinsing used silver, etc., would be welcome changes). When we get our house, get married, and live together, we'll have a lot more space for him to move around and snack indiscriminately while I cook.

The only other thing I worry about is the terrible influence he'll have on our future children.