New Cook in House

“You are going to learn to cook, Mr. Retired Man!” Coming from my true love’s lips, it sounded more like an ultimatum than a request.

Throughout my working days, my spouse and I had an understanding that one of us would cook and the other would be responsible for the dishes. Since my better-half had a visceral hatred for dishwater, I normally had a hot meal waiting for me when I got home from a hard day. After a post-meal snooze on the couch, I’d pull my KP. My wife recently looked at my dishpan hands and lamented sympathetically on their chapped state. For an instant I thought her pity would translate into her taking over my sink duties. She looked into my eyes, paused meaningfully and said, “Wear some rubber gloves.” And that was that.

But as Dylan and Baez once sang, “The times, they are a changing.” Since she has become the sole bread winner of the family, I honestly think my spouse has begun to suffer from retirement envy. Perhaps it does not help that I greet her with a little jig when she drags herself through the doorway at night…or when she asks, “What did you do today?” I reply “I read a book.” Or perhaps it is that I call her “my little bread winner” (and several much worse terms of endearment which I cannot relate here on pain of losing all computer privileges.) Whatever… I’ve been put on notice that my darlin’ dear expects to smell the aroma of a hot dinner when she opens the house door at night…and, oh yes, I still have dishes afterward.

After years of my feigning ignorance and incompetence, I guess the jig is up. Oh well, it is winter and I really do have time on my hands to learn a new life skill; just last night I learned to brown hamburger. Besides, I need some winter material to write about in my blogs. Still all this role reversal and “I expect my meat and potatoes on the table” attitude bother me a bit.
I’ll keep you posted on my culinary progress… and oh yes, we simply must exchange recipes!