Cooking Catastrophe? Or Success?

Ben came home last night and was frightened by what he saw… me cooking. I cooked last night. No, I didn’t just pop a little frozen treat in the oven and voila! I cooked a FULL MEAL.

A rarity, I know, and, apparently, a little scary.

I impressed myself with my skills in the kitchen, whether it was adding a pinch of salt here or squeezing a lime there. I did well. I got into the groove. Paula Deen had nothin’ on me.

Then Ben came home. He tried to help me in the kitchen (a 3x3 foot space). He sweetly stirred the vegetables on the stove and gave me advice. It wasn’t long, though, before I started to interpret his advice as him telling me how to do things. The heat in the kitchen no longer came from the stove.

Eventually, Ben quieted down and let me cook. For a few minutes at least. I’m not sure what finally made him explode – it could have been the stream of soy sauce that hit the wall and narrowly missed him, or my chopping almonds one-by-one with a large knife, or that I opened a cabinet and almost got beheaded by a metal bowl that fell into the sink and broke a plate.

“Babe, I love you and I love that you’re cooking, but I’m worried. You’re pretty dangerous in the kitchen!”

Aw, what a sweetie. He worried about me. He didn’t want to lose me over a skillet of vegetable stir-fry and a bowl of black bean salsa.

It’s safe to say that I put my time in last night, and more than likely he’ll be back in the kitchen later this week. Thank goodness.


* Note: I KNOW that it is possible to chop more than one almond at a time, but whenever I did the almonds would shoot into the burners on the gas stove. A seemingly more dangerous option.