I have a love-hate relationship with food.
What I mean to say is – I love food, but hate preparing it.
Which essentially means – I hate to cook.
Perhaps hate is a strong word.
I cannot recall ever cooking a meal for myself (or anyone else for that matter) before being married. The extent of my cooking knowledge was
- making rice and
- packaged ramen noodles. And I make a mean ramen.
So you can imagine the terror I felt as I approached my wedding day. I remember waking up a few times in cold sweats.
In fact, one of our biggest fights during our engagement was about SATURDAY MORNING BREAKFAST. The conversation went something like this:
Kevin: I love having Saturday morning breakfasts. You’re going to cook Saturday morning breakfasts RIGHT?
Me: Hi, have you met me? Have you ever seen me cook a hot breakfast? Ever heard of something called CEREAL?
That conversation didn’t end very well.
After all, was it my fault that my husband to-be had insane expectations? I think not.
After nearly 4 years of marriage, the scoreboard looks a bit like this:
# of Saturday Morning Breakfasts cooked:
Amy: 3 (maybe 2)
And we are happily married. Even though I’ve heard that it’s not good to keep score in a marriage.
And that’s why I find this picture absolutely hilarious:
And this one (for different reasons):