His Kitchen

When my husband makes dinner (which is more often than I do), he seems to know how to do it to minimize the mess. Perhaps this is because he also does the dishes--in fact he does just about everything that has to do with the kitchen--but somehow he has learned over the years how to cook wonderful, healthy, homemade meals while only getting two spoons dirty. I have not learned this. I am not even close to learning this. Tonight I made Pink Macaroni and Cheese (which is regular mac and cheese but with beets in it). So there was a casserole dish that it all was baked in, the pot that cooked the macaroni, the pot that cooked the cheese sauce, the pot for the beets, the cutting board for the beets, the cheese grater, and a plethora of knives, stirring spoons and measuring things (which is another thing my husband doesn't use--he seems to know how much a teaspoon is just by looking). So poor Chris comes home from work and is grateful beyond words that dinner is ready and waiting. And because he loves me, he doesn't even comment that it looks like a tornado ran through his kitchen.

Which is fine, because I never say a thing when he does the laundry.