I’m lucky. So very lucky. You see, my wife is not the type of woman who expects much from her man when it comes to most things domestic. Specifically when it comes to work in our around the kitchen. Sure, I take care of the laundry (I have a tattoo that reads “Fluff and Fold King”)*, and I am handy when it comes to fixing things around the house. But when it comes to meal time, my prowess is limited to dialing for take out. Anything that involves preparing a meal and actually cooking it …. that’s totally Lee’s area of expertise.
So imagine her surprise when she came home from work and dinner was ready. She walked in and the house smelled finger-licking good.
Turns out I CAN read instruction, CAN preheat the oven, CAN line an oven tray with aluminum foil, and CAN stick that tray in the oven (and wait 8 minutes, flip the chicken, and wait 8 more minutes).
And once she was done with her meal, what was her way of thanking me? With a big kiss and a whisper in my ear. “I expect you to have dinner ready when I get home more often.”
*I really don’t have a tattoo.