I was so excited to see the Husband walk up our stairs I can't begin to describe it. Then words failed me when he walked in the door and said, "I have a migraine. It started in the car on the way home." Are you kidding me? 2/3 of our children had been cranky (The Snugglebear didn't nap for very long yesterday. She stirred -- probably looking for her fingers -- and 4ft jumped up and said, "Baby sister is awake," and ran into the room. Hmmm it's probably a testament to how much I love all my kids that we all survived yesterday) and I'd been counting down the minutes until his punk butt came home and he came home INCAPACITATED!?!?!?! I'm glad it's not yesterday anymore. By the time I'd gotten the house cleaned up, everyone in bed, and finished the work the kids didn't let me do during the day I was too tired to do anything but veg on the couch. The husband found me there, sleeping, at 11pm and told me to go to bed. So I did.
I made steak tacos for dinner last night. I fried up some flour tortillas like my grandma used to do (this is the Husbands particular favorite way for the shells -- not that it mattered because he didn't really even eat -- stoopid migraine), used steak leftovers from the night before (I love me some dinner twofers), made black beans, and some Spanish rice. I did not eat any fried tortillas or the rice. I pulled a couple leafs off a romaine heart and loaded up the "boats" with my taco filling -- a little black beans, a little steak, a dollop of light sour cream, tomato, onion, and avocado slices, with a liberal dash of hot sauce. You know? I didn't even miss the shell. And really after you load up a shell with all your favorite taco fillings how much do you taste the tortilla anyway?