Dinner makes me giggle.

As I'm known to do, I decided to cook dinner last night. I put some thought into this ahead of time so I had some chicken marinating in the fridge waiting for me. I had it all mapped out in my head: honey mustard baked chicken, brown rice and steamed green beans. I was ready to cook. 

I have no idea what the hell I was thinking. The Beef hates all things mustard, this includes honey mustard, something I didn't even consider. Who would have thought that honey, the sweet nectar of the gods wasn't enough deliciousness to overpower the evil that he seems to think mustard is.

*shrug*

Ok, so how do we make this better. First of all, we need to get rid of the rice because that was supposed to be the part of dinner he wasn't thrilled with. I started making garlic mashed potatoes as an apology for the vile chicken because as much as he hates mustard balances out his obsession with garlic. In my apologetic haste I forgot what a carb monster I feel in love with and some how the words mac & cheese entered the conversation.

"With potatoes?" I asked in horror. 

"Yeah, why not?" He replied.

My inner meal planner wept at this great unbalancing but I had no choice, he probably wouldn't even eat the chicken, can I really just expect him to be ok with potatoes and green beans? I might as well give him a glass of water and crust of bread. 

One day I'll learn that nothing good comes from mumbling to myself because apparently the words "zap the mustard out of the chicken" came out of my mouth. The Beef thought this was a great idea, except for him zap apparently means roll those suckers in bread crumbs and fry the heck out of them. 

I'd been attempting something a bit more healthy but this is what happens when you soak perfectly good chicken in the one condiment your boyfriend absolutely can not stand. 60 years ago I probably would have been beaten within an inch of my life for such of sin, but thankfully we live in modern times where my punishment is being teased mercilessly. 

So dinner was "saved" and he even ate some of the chicken which apparently was delightful until he swallowed it and experienced "the after taste of doom".  The real reason I'm even mentioning this is not because I'm a terrible girlfriend who can't keep her boyfriends food preferences straight but because there is a regular theme in our house when it comes to how our plates look at dinner time. I meant to take a picture but I was rather distracted, instead I've drawn you a picture, which is probably more entertaining anyway.

It should be noted here that green beans are the only vegetables he'll eat without giving me the stink eye. 

So what do you think? Should I have suffered 50 lashes with a wet noodle for my crimes? Have you had a similar mishap in the kitchen? Do your plates at home balance the same or do they look more like ours?