Murphy's Law

Everything that can go wrong, will.  Sometimes I think it should be renamed Murray's Law, because honestly, if it wasn't for bad luck, we wouldn't have any.  Take dinner the other night.  My newest recipe, Chicken Alfredo Casserole.  I love chicken alfredo.  I love pasta and sauces and gravy, so this was an instant hit for me.  I should have known that it wouldn't be for my family, just not for the reasons I suspected.
It started off fine, well almost.  I forgot to take the chicken out of the freezer so needless to say, I had to throw it in a pot and stick it in the microwave, my husbands least favorite way to eat something.   If I am making something that way, he usually doesn't know about it.  So the chicken is in the microwave and I am working on the rest of the recipe which is coming along nicely, until I realize we don't have any chicken broth, something I need almost 2 cups of.  Strike two.  So I take some concentrated broth and add that, I am too far along to back out now.  The pasta is done, the microwave dinged, and the sauce is ready.  Time to cut up the chicken and toss it all together.
The chicken smells funny to me.  I am also pregnant, so everything smells funny to me.  I ask Mark to smell it, and he says it smells funny too.  Damn.  There goes the chicken I just spent 20 minutes cooking.  So, I just throw everything else in the oven and turn on the timer.  Mark asks if I want to run up to subway, really?  I just spent 45 minutes cooking this dinner that didn't turn out.  No, I don't want to go up to subway, we can just eat the noodles.  Apparently you have to have meat in every meal or its not a meal. 
Aiden had spaghetti o's, Carly had cereal, and mark had cereal.  I had noodles and alfredo, and it was good.