The Curry from Hell

I am feeling very sorry for myself this morning. The Flea is totally unsympathetic.
"Its totally self-inflicted," she remarked this morning while I was looking for sympathy.

I cooked last night.

As a rule, I am a good cook, even if I say so myself. Normally the whole family loves my curries. Last night was a little different. Not even my son, who has a cast-iron mouth would take more than one bite. I was quite pissed-off at this display of ingratitude.I slaved over a hot stove, etc

I was also quite pissed, while I made supper.

Which explains the lack of enthusiasm from the family. I will admit that using a large, no, enormous spoon to measure out the curry powder, was maybe going a little overboard. (Well, I could not find a teaspoon anywhere).

The curry was warm enough to bend a fork. I thought, after taking the first bite of the lamb curry, that flames were coming out of my ears. I looked in the mirror. No Flames... just lots of tears.

The Flea called Mr Delivery and had pizzas delivered.

I was damned if the curry was going to go to waste. I offered Joe, the cocker spaniel a bite. He just looked at me. 'Fuck you', I thought!

I WILL eat the curry myself. All of it.

I needed frozen toilet paper this morning. Or ice.

The Flea ignored my screams from the toilet.