It has happened, dear readers and loyal subjects. The Queen has cooked dinner! The trumpets played and the angels sang and there was great rejoicing! Okay, at least my family sort of looked both surprised and happy. That counts for something. So I have something to show you. THIS is what dinner looks like:
Doesn't that look nice?! Okay, it's not what MY dinner looks like but there's a reason for that! You see, the Queen does not cook.... ever. I think I might have mentioned it once. I really wasn't kidding. In fact, I was so NOT kidding that tonight when I went to the kitchen to cook, MPH (My Poor Husband) was there with one of our friends talking. Our friend said that he had to get home because his wife was cooking. MPH replied with "Yeah, she's cooking too!" while pointing at me and then breaking into riotous laughter. It took him a minute to realize that I actually had a package of uncooked meat in my hand... and that I was glaring at him. He looked confused for a moment before he finally said "Oh my God, she IS cooking!" He looked less confused and more startled when I made a rude hand gesture at him.
It turns out that MPH really isn't allowed to complain about the fact that I don't cook. He had full disclosure before we started dating. When he first showed up at my apartment to pick me up for our first date, I met him at the door and let him know some basic information. I informed him in no uncertain terms that I was broke (I was in training at the time), I was high maintenance (because I'm the Queen... duh!), and that I don't cook... ever. I gave him this information and then asked him if he was certain that he wanted to go out. He assured me that he did... which was what I had counted on. You see, I never said I was stupid! I told him all of this while standing there in a micro-mini and four inch heels. Of COURSE he still wanted to go out! He swears to me that I could have told him my name was Beelzebub and that I would suck his soul out of his left ear at the end of the night then asked if he wanted to go out and he STILL would have said yes! But regardless of that irrelevant fact, MPH got FULL disclosure early on in our dating relationship. Any issues related to my inability to cook are now null and void. Now someone order me some take out!
It turns out, however, that upon a rare occasion, I will find some reason to decide to cook a meal. I can't remember the last time it happened, but I promise you that it does indeed happen. I once cooked a total of three times in a single year! This was a banner year! And for some reason, tonight was one of those nights. Alright, I did it for my wonderful Mandy who is visiting us from Germany. I admit it. It's her favorite meal, and I didn't want her to go back home without having it. Turns out I'm a big softie but don't tell anyone. But the point is that tonight I cooked dinner... twice. I want extra credit. What happened is that the first time I cooked it... I burnt it to a crisp. I couldn't believe it. After all that effort, I realized I'd done it and immediately looked to see if it could be salvaged. I could have used this meat as a hockey puck! So if you consider that salvageable... it was!!! Unfortunately, even I decided it wasn't wise to try to serve that to anyone and expect them to find it edible. So out to the store we went so that I could start all over again. And this, my darling readers and loyal subjects, is why the Queen does NOT cook. The second attempt turned out much better, if I do say so myself. I hope everyone enjoyed it. I figure I'm good for at least another couple of years. Bon appetite!