Communication Breakdown

So, this sort of thing never happens if you live alone:

Saturday, I roasted a chicken.
Sunday, I took the big, hulking carcass and dropped it in the giant soup pot and boiled it all day. I told F to bring home some carrots and onions so that I could make chicken noodle soup for Monday night.
He brought the carrots and onions home about 9 pm on Sunday night. He saw me go to bed at about 915 pm. He saw me leave for work on Monday morning.

As I was leaving for work on Monday morning, I says to him, "Make sure you guys eat up lots of leftovers today. There is some canned chicken soup leftover in the fridge that M could eat for lunch as well as french toast sticks, etc. etc."

I get home and I see that some people are already eating.
I see M is eating the canned chicken soup with crackers.
I see the giant soup pot is on the stove. I think to myself, "Great, he's already got it out so I can pull the meat off the carcass."
I see him go over with a ladle.
I see him dip into the giant soup pot and pour some liquid into a bowl.
I demand an explanation from him.


Apparently, he's been eating that "soup" throughout the day.
Apparently, he thinks it is pretty tasty.
When asked about the huge carcass floating in the middle of the giant soup pot, he explains that he just "went ahead and crunched it up." (At this time, he makes chopping gestures with both hands.)
Apparently, he thought this was some of my "country cooking."

I mean, I grew up in Minnesota... Not the Ozarks. I've never served anything to him that had huge pieces of bone floating throughout it. I've never uttered words like, "Ah there. Yap. Just go ahead and crunch those bones up nice and small and we'll just chew em right up. It's good for ya."

What the heck? What the heck? When did he think the carrots and onions were coming in to play? It all too bizarre for further rumination.
That's all I have to say about that.