Mitch is going to kill me.

The backstory:

We had been married about 1.5 years. I made soup. And shoved the leftover cabbage down the drain, to be "dealt with" by the garbage disposal. The disposal was less than willing. Mitch took the disposal apart, piece by piece. It was gross. It was terrible. Mitch was a bit upset with me.

Fast-forward to today:

This time, it is cilantro.

He's gonna kill me . . .

(I'll keep you posted . . . if possible.)