Dinner when I'm not home

So, I work late on Mondays, and don't get home till after 9.  Lots of drama happens when I'm not here.  So the first 15 minutes of being home (not yet able to go pee, start my own dinner, walk the dog) are always a recap of the drama filled afternoon and evening.  First I hear from Dad - no hello, no how was your day..."Your mother folded your clothes YOU left in the dryer.  They're on your bed...WE needed the DRYER."  "Thanks, Dad, I appreciate that."  Then he says to Casey, "Can you wash that frying pan I used?  I can't wash it."  Casey, not happy, walked away, bitchin' bout people using stuff they know they can't wash...talk about pots and kettles!  Out loud she said, "Sure Poppie" as I finally got out the door with Santana.  Remember, I still haven't gotten a chance to pee, or start my dinner.
I come back in, Dirk is in the kitchen, tired as hell, and a bit upset the the old people left all the windows open all day while sitting around with their jackets on, right in front of the open windows!  I'm listening while I look for the toaster oven pan to cook some comfort food (fish sticks and french fries!).  No, the pan was not where it was supposed to be...welcome to the world where people put things away in the wrong places, but leave the easy things in the drain...I used another pan cause I was HOOONGRY!  Put my dinner in the oven, popped a piece of ricotta cake in my mouth, and put away the silverware and dishes from last night's food experiences.
I'm still finishing up my fish sticks and french fries.  It's 10:11 pm at night.  At least the old folks wash their own clothes.

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