A couple times a week this happens in my house...

It's 8:30 and my husband comes home only to find me on the computer, blogging, producing, editing, writing (maybe online shopping ;) and he meekly says “What's for dinner?”

You see, at this point in our marriage he is well aware that if he doesn’t walk in to find me rocking to 90's pop with the kitchen in full-on disaster mode than I'm probably not making dinner.