"Sex is like having dinner: sometimes you joke about the dishes, sometimes you take the meal seriously." - Woody Allen
Last night, I had asked the boy if we could drop off the apple crisp I had made at his sidekick's apartment for him and his roommate to enjoy. I would have made the apple crisp for the boy himself, but he hates all things dessert. I figured using the rest of the apples to make a dessert that requires 2 sticks of butter was not in my best interest, nor my butt's. The sidekick offered to come by and pick it up. That turned into the sidekick coming over for dinner. I had made tuna noodle casserole the night before so that we could have leftovers and get straight to apartment projects without having to work into the night.
Maybe I made it up that he was coming for dinner, maybe the boy eluded to feeding him... either way I made a quick greenbean casserole to flush out the leftovers and added some caprese skewers for appetizers. I slapped the boy's hand away and made him wait for his friend. An hour plus later, the sidekick shows up after his grad class. Guess who wasn't hungry? Yeah, he had to run. You know you're a fat kid when the boy went to fill my plate with seconds and I said 'No thanks, I'm good' and he asked 'is something wrong?'
I just want to host a dinner party!