Turnabout is Fair Play.

It's bad enough that I'm subject to profound pain that comes and goes without warning to make it worse, I have no way to anticipate or predict the level of pain ahead of time. So regardless of what I plan, that can change without warning or reason at any time. I accept that this happens and just stay patient; my GP accepts that this happens and makes sure I have breakthrough doses of my meds; Alan is convinced that this is deliberate on my part, and caused by bad planning, laziness, and inconsideration. As far as he is concerned, if I casually mention that I would like to make fish pie for dinner tomorrow, then come hell or high water I should damn well be up and in the kitchen making that fish pie at the appointed time.

So, this afternoon, I suddenly was in very bad pain and really bad shape. Nothing helped and I knew I'd have to excuse myself from preparing our meal and the usual miserable scene would play out - and it did. Absolutely no explanation was accepted and my only choice was to drag myself into the kitchen and start to prepare dinner shaking and stumbling thru the pain or accept Alan's offer to wash and massage the painful foot area because it's a sort of voodoo he believes in - his quick little one off massage heals whatever it is at the moment. I accepted the massage and it actually helped surprisingly well this time - we think a bit of cat litter or pebble might have gotten lodged in my sole.

Anyway, I went into the kitchen and made the fish pie mix from scratch -gorgeous stuff made from scratch, even the white wine fish stock cream sauce. Pie mix complete, I filled a deep dish pie plate and set it aside to cool. Later Alan would make the mash, top off the pie plate and finish it in the oven.

Time passed and the dinner hour approached and I noticed that Alan hadn't done anything of his part of the dinner prep. Twice I reminded him with only a grunt in response. At 6:30pm I pointed out to Alan that it was getting very late  for him to get all his share of the prep work done and even if he started right now the fish pie would be way overdue. I didn't really care one way or the other but since he'd made such a huge fuss that he had been promised fish pie and it was fish pie that he wanted for supper tonight and nothing else would do, then he damn well should get up and get to work. So he headed off for the kitchen grumbling and muttering all the way.

Turnabout is fair play. (And it was a delicious pie no question.)

By the way, the attitude is not unique to Alan by any means. It really feels like it's ubiquitous and universal. Utterly infuriating and frustrating and nothing to be done about it.

Apple crumble tomorrow if you're in the mood for it, folx.