Roland loves to cook. He enjoys baking. The kitchen is his domain. Overall he is a really good cook. I can follow a recipe (usually) but I don’t enjoy cooking. I do enjoy eating though. Unfortunately it shows.
When he was working on commission, Roland cooked dinner all of the time. It was great! Especially when he would get a hold of abandoned recipe books and feel inspired to make something different every night. I didn’t always like what he fixed, but for the most part it was awesome.
He has since found a job that pays an income that we can actually budget with. But because he is required to do at least 40 hours a week, I am now in charge of making the meals. Roland doesn’t complain exactly, but always asks why I did this or why I didn’t do that or gives me helpful suggestions on how I can improve whatever I have prepared.
I don’t know why Roland wants me to prepare every meal. When I have dinner ready, he is usually very late. When I don’t have dinner, he is on time and wonders where dinner is. Aside from the turkey sandwiches that I’ve made and the ugly cake that was downed in just seconds, he never likes anything that I make.
I finally came up with a dish that he raved about. Well, not raved exactly. But he said he liked it. I, on the other hand, found it to be somewhat disgusting.
“Really?” I asked.
“yes. I thought it was pretty good.”
I can’t win!