Salsa anyone?

My husband makes salsa. Great salsa. Allegedly. Over the last four days he has told me no less than 8 times that he wants to make salsa and asked me to get the "necessities" the next time I go shopping. Ok, sure.

So last night as we're laying in bed he (again) tells me that he wants to make salsa and asks if I'll go to the store tonight after I pick up Little D from daycare. Keep in mind that for the past four nights Alexandra has not slept for more than 2 hours at a time. She's been extra restless and every time she wakes up, Mommy wakes up. On more than one occasion she has remained awake for over an hour. Not good. As a result, I have been practically injecting coffee into my veins all week just to be able to function in a semi-normal state. By the time I actually get into bed I'm somewhat disoriented and my brain activity is rapidly declining. Clearly, this is the perfect time for salsa conversation:

M: I need you to get the ingredients for salsa.
J: What are they?
M: Babe, pull up the secret recipe. I really want to make salsa
**(WARNING: sleep deprivation = broken brain-to-mouth filter)**
J: But it wasn't even good last time.
M: WHAT?!?!?
J: I mean.....last time, remember? It was really hot but not much flavor....
M: ---open mouthed stare---
J: I think it was the tomatoes. I'm sure if I get different tomatoes.....
M: THAT'S IT! I'm NEVER making salsa again.
J: Babe, I didn't mean it the way it sounded.
M: Nope. From now on, you're making the salsa.
J: *sigh*

Great. Not only do I now have the salsa-making responsibily but it needs to be better than his. Otherwise, I will never hear the end of it.