watch the pasta

I need to get my own place. Soon.

The other night my mom wanted to do spaghetti. She was wiling to do meat sauce since GF meatballs aren't that great. Which means, two pots of spaghetti.

She asked me to check on my pasta since it wasn't quite done yet. I thought she said "the fork closest to the end of the cabinet is yours". Which I inferred that the pot closest to the end was mine.

She got a long distance call, so I went to tend to pasta. I tried the pasta in the pot at the end of the stove, and it was real done. So I tried another piece, shut the water off, drained the pasta, and plated it. I then did the same for my dad's pasta.

When my mom hung up the phone and sat down, she said "isn't that your dad's pasta?"

"I dunno, I thought you said the pot at the end of the stove was my pasta."

"No silly, that's your dad's pasta."

Crap, I already had a couple pieces of his pasta.

I survived dinner, but felt sick to my stomach. Not sure if it was something in my head or not.

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Then to add insult to injury, I put my leftovers on a plate for lunch. Dad put his in a bowl. Went to go look for my leftovers this morning, and all I found was the bowl of spaghetti.

Thanks Dad. You ate my leftovers. Gluten-free pasta must not be that bad.