BBQ Pulled Pork

It's been a transition getting back into the work mode and instead of Chet coming home to an always smiling wife and happy, clean children, with a steaming plate of supper at the table, he has to pick up the kids from the sitter, feed them, feed himself and do all the evening chores, on top of his own homework.  

I made a point to put supper in the crockpot on Tuesday before I left for work so that the kids would have something other than pbj's and Chet would have a nice, hearty meal to come home to.  I know, I'm such a good wife.

I did the same on Wednesday, slaving away at making BBQ pulled pork and I even included a spotless house in on the deal.  I was even three minutes late for work.

I called Chet on my supper break.  He said he reheated a frozen chicken pot pie for supper.  That's not what I made.  

"But I didn't see the crockpot on the counter until I had already eaten."  he said.

"How can you not SMELL the BBQ pulled pork the second you walk in the door?"  I wondered.   All that work.  For nothing.

"I'll salvage what's not burnt and put it in the fridge."  he offered.

Yesterday, I put the leftovers, a little over half of what I originally had made, back into the crockpot.  Figuring he wouldn't see it again, I made a point of putting signs all over the house, indicating that there was, indeed, a crockpot on the kitchen counter containing something that was, indeed, edible and that he should, indeed, eat it.  

There was a sign on the front door, one on the basement door, one in the bathroom, one in the living room, one in the bedroom, two in the kitchen and a large arrow pointing in a downward direction towards the crockpot.  

I called him on break.

"Did you see the food I left in the crockpot?"  I asked.

"Um, no."  he joked.  "Where's the crockpot?"

"It's on the kitchen counter."  I said.  "Next to the sink."

He ate the pulled pork and the leftovers are in the refrigerator.  But tonight on the menu is taco soup.  The kids' sitter Heidi served it the other day, I hear, and Tucker ate TWO bowls of it.  Picky little Tucker.  And he's still raving about it this morning.  

I'll be sure to leave signs again for Chet.  Those seemed to help.