She has decided that she doesn't like pizza, so if I want a pizza for tea she usually has a ready meal.
She won't go in and buy one though. I have to do that.
I also have to go in with the vaguest instructions available.
Tonight's was "something with penne"
As a loving and attentive husband, I remembered her express dislike of chicken arrabiata from when I bought that about a year ago, and remembered her saying she likes something with a creamy sauce, so I selected a chicken and bacon penne bake (out of the standard range, not the basics).
Of course as soon as I get it home I should have known that she wanted something tomatoey. I mentioned the penbe bolognese bake, which caused offence because of something. Apparently I know she likes chicken in tomato sauce.
The plan was agreed that she'd get the kids off to bed while I nipped to the shop again. Getting the kids to bed appears to have involved leaving them downstairs scrapping while she had a lie down.
In response to these indignities I intend to leave the toilet seat up as a passive aggressive alternative to the Lester Nygaard approach.