In my house I usually do the cooking for dinner and such, not because I have to, but because I want to. I enjoy cooking, I love trying new recipes (good and bad) and lucky me the BF enjoys eating. That is not to say he can't cook, in fact sometimes he does and it's good. The only issue I have with his cooking is that butter (and a lot of it) is one of his main ingredients. I like to try and keep my butt size down so his cooking is restricted to only every once in awhile.
That is of course unless I am out for the evening and he needs to fend for himself. Which is not a big deal for him, but turns out it is for me. Before I go to far into this story I need to preface it with the fact that I have a bit of a cleaning and putting things away in the correct spot problem. By problem I mean it has to be done my way. I am getting better and not freaking out on people any more, but I do re-clean and put everything back in the right spot the moment they walk away. This is considered progress. Trust me.
So back to the BF, last week I went out for the evening and he decided to make himself tomato soup, which I am sure was delicious, and he cleaned up. Well kinda cleaned up. Is there something about domesticated men that render them unable to properly clean the counters after using the kitchen? When I got home I noticed there were small red splotches all over the counters. Before I realized what it was I thought he had cut himself. Then I saw it on the stove and sink and it started to dawn on me what happened. He must have killed someone and boiled the head (as a side note I thought the same exact thing about our neighbors. Turns out they are just divorcing.). After a moment of panic and a Starburst (left over Halloween candy) I spotted the soup can and was relieved I didn't have any additional body parts to worry about, but now I had to re-clean the counters, with bleach.
Now I realize that I am a complete freak about my kitchen, but surely I can't be the only one that wants to ban someone from the kitchen. Am I?
That is of course unless I am out for the evening and he needs to fend for himself. Which is not a big deal for him, but turns out it is for me. Before I go to far into this story I need to preface it with the fact that I have a bit of a cleaning and putting things away in the correct spot problem. By problem I mean it has to be done my way. I am getting better and not freaking out on people any more, but I do re-clean and put everything back in the right spot the moment they walk away. This is considered progress. Trust me.
So back to the BF, last week I went out for the evening and he decided to make himself tomato soup, which I am sure was delicious, and he cleaned up. Well kinda cleaned up. Is there something about domesticated men that render them unable to properly clean the counters after using the kitchen? When I got home I noticed there were small red splotches all over the counters. Before I realized what it was I thought he had cut himself. Then I saw it on the stove and sink and it started to dawn on me what happened. He must have killed someone and boiled the head (as a side note I thought the same exact thing about our neighbors. Turns out they are just divorcing.). After a moment of panic and a Starburst (left over Halloween candy) I spotted the soup can and was relieved I didn't have any additional body parts to worry about, but now I had to re-clean the counters, with bleach.
Now I realize that I am a complete freak about my kitchen, but surely I can't be the only one that wants to ban someone from the kitchen. Am I?
No comments:
Post a Comment