I took a Ziploc bag of frozen pork chops out of the freezer and set them in the refrigerator to thaw. I decided to make one of my favorite crock pot recipes with them. I threatened the husband with a black eye if he ate the last of the sour cream because I needed it for that simple recipe.
The next day, I carried my crock pot to my island in the kitchen and mixed the sour cream with an envelope of onion soup mix and decided to rinse the defrosted meat at the sink before adding to my recipe. Then I noticed something.
They weren’t pork chops. To my surprise, I witnessed defrosted chicken thighs. Very big chicken thighs; it must have been a hippy chicken. The freezer bag’s label read Dec. ’15 in the husband’s writing. I assumed it contained pork chops. I was wrong.
Write it like a man.
Thinking like a man would think, he probably guessed that any fool could see these are chicken thighs when he placed them in a clear gallon freezer bag and put them in the freezer for later use. No need to spell it out on a label.
What’s funny to me, he even asked me the day before: “What are you going to do with the chicken in the refrigerator?”
I corrected him and told him “It’s for my slow cooker and its pork chops, not chicken.”
I felt sorry for him because, typical man, he loves pork chops. And he wasn’t getting any.
Similarly, miscommunication results when we assume things about others. I have a friend whom I’ve known for a few years. When we first met she asked me if I had an open door policy in my home and could she drop in anytime for chats and doing life together. I discouraged that immediately because I’m quietly productive and respectful of my husband’s space too since we are retired and live in the same house.
However, the boundary I set in place was ignored. The woman dropped in often. So then, I asked her to give me a call first before showing up. She ignored that boundary, too.
In discussing my irritation recently, it amazed me when she responded that she didn’t know I am a private person. She then instructed me as a private person to set boundaries.
I conclude that there is a hefty surprise in store for us when we refuse to hear what the other person is saying whether its pork chops, chicken or friendship.