"So I was watching a cooking show today…"
This is the way Bubba Hubby started the conversation.
I couldn’t help but interrupt. "Excuse me?"
"Well yeah, this guy had a really interesting way of grilling onions, but mostly I was noticing his kitchen…"
If you know my husband, it probably doesn’t surprise you that he spends time in the kitchen, but this kind of talk is enough to keep my eyebrows raised. Then he summed up his little cooking-show-speech with, "when we build our own house someday, I’d like to design the kitchen."
Excuse me?
Perhaps I truly have been away from the hearth for too long. See, here’s the problem… I’ve ALREADY got the KITCHEN designed! Complete with an altar to Hestia, my dream kitchen is more-or-less complete… at least in my head. Now he’s telling me HE wants to design the kitchen!
I have to be careful here, I’m certainly not going to claim a man’s place is… elsewhere… like in the yard or under the hood of the car (not the car, please), or at the very least, the bathroom. I thought I ought to offer a trade. How about he designs the bathrooms (as long as he has his and her sinks in mind) and I’ll just keep the kitchen to myself?
He was skeptical, but, in the end, willing to work toward a compromise.
To top things off, however, he actually criticized the way I’ve been loading the dishwasher!
Take note girls. See what happens when you give a man equal opportunity and allow him to run a home as it pleases him? He starts thinking that he’s like… good at it or something.
…Big Sigh…
I foresee big adjustments ahead. Four more actual days of working (away from home) to go. I had pictured a delightful few days of baking cookies, eating bon-bons, and lounging on our battered sofa. Obviously, it’s going to be a little harder than that. I have a kitchen to reclaim… or, at the very least, a man-body to nudge over.
1 comment:
You cannot screw around with improper dishwasher technique--it must be corrected immediately. I hope that between the two of you, you have reached that status.
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