It seems as if I have stumbled upon an age old truth about life now in my old, ripe, married age.
People need to eat to survive.
Man, does this add to my workload, or what? Phew. Seems as if The Mister wants to eat supper…EVERY NIGHT! Dang. Which means I find myself in that tiny little kitchen day in and day out (well, unless I deem it “fend for yourself night.” Which has been quite frequent, as of late).
I swear the cupboards have eyes and they are watching my every move…just waiting for me to make the next cooking mistake, just waiting to defeat me. Sometimes they lash out, like the other morning when I bent down to grab the blender, only to stand up and get stabbed in the head by the corner of one of those dang cupboard doors (which I admit, I didn’t shut).
That kitchen, I swear it is out to get me. And yet, I have to tread into it’s dreary presence night after night. I am determined to dominate that kitchen at some point. At some point, I will like to cook.
But right now? I’d rather eat cereal or take-out Chinese than spend any ounce of my time in that kitchen.
Perhaps tonight will be a new night. Perhaps those cupboard eyes will watch with amazement at what I attempt to cook. Perhaps they will cry as they watch me destroy that little kitchen (or as I cut a few onions). Perhaps they will hang their heads in sorrow, for I have put those cupboards to shame. I will try, once again, to dominate that kitchen and bring victory to the table…..
…or the TV tray.
(You know Biggest Loser is on tonight, right? Come on, people. Priorities.)