Wendy’s, and here’s how that happened:
For months, probably years, I’ve told MrsT, “I want a day off from cooking, so Friday nights, you take care of supper. It can be a bologna sandwich, it can be a Big Mac, it can be the most expensive steak in the city, I don’t care, just handle it.”
That has never worked out. Fridays roll around, and she still has no idea.
I told her Monday last, “Go look at this restaurant, see if you like it, and we’ll go early Friday, around 5PM, before the rush.”
She looked at it, deemed it acceptable.
Today, I was scrubbing the deck, so she decided to do some yard work as well, picking up the tree limbs that have blown down over the winter.
She’s a fall risk from her stroke, our yard is full of mole hills, she has low energy because of her heart problems, and she’s susceptible to heat stroke because of her autoimmune disorder and the meds to manage her autoimmune disorder (it was 75F/23C and bright sun today).
I strongly cautioned her to find something else to do. Nope, picking up tree limbs in the hot sun it was. Stubborn is too light a word for her.
A little while after that, she collapsed from the heat and the strain, so we had to get her in the house and cooled down and all that.
So…that’s how supper out at a proper restaurant turned into cold fast food in the house.
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Hope she feels better tomorrow.