Doing “It” the Man’s Way
My husband is a really smart guy. Seriously, he can read about something in a book and understand how to do it himself, no instruction required. I consider myself fortunate because this ability means he can fix things around our house that would be far more expensive to have done professionally. Sometimes, though, this blessing is a curse.
No matter how simple the task, with hubby dear, it always becomes complicated. This weekend, as I was lugging both kids by myself to a home improvement store to buy some forgotten item for one of his projects, I thought about what it would be like if I cooked the way he does home projects. I think it would go something like this:
1. Decide I’m going to make lasagna for dinner. Get down pan and all required “tools” to make lasagna and spread them all over the kitchen. Declare kitchen “dangerous” and say he has to keep children out of kitchen until lasagna is prepared and area is once again deemed safe.
2. Take break. Leave stuff out and area declared “dangerous” overnight.
3. Next morning, start to make lasagna. Begin browning meat and realize I don’t have any ricotta cheese. After meat is brown, go to store for ricotta, leaving children with him.
4. Come back. Realize I also don’t have lasagna noodles, or that the ones I do have are the wrong ones. Go back to store. Call home to ask his opinion on lasagna noodles. Get feelings hurt when he appears not to give a damn about lasagna noodles and asks when I am coming home. Fail to notice screaming children in the background of the call or his obvious frustration at the fact that he’s had the kids all day while I’ve been making multiple trips to the store.
5. Start to make sauce. Realize I need basil. Back to store. Buy $50 worth of other stuff for “future recipes” while I’m there, because it’s on sale. Leave it in bags in the kitchen where everyone trips over it.
6. Finish sauce, get ready to assemble layers. Realize I need eggs and Parmesan cheese. Ask him to go to the store for me with both the kids. When he protests, tell him it will be faster because I can be working while he picks up the needed items. Shake head at his obviously unreasonable attitude.
7. Finally get lasagna assembled and in the oven. It is now way after dinner time and this has taken all day. Order pizza. Wonder why he isn’t more excited about all the progress I made on the lasagna today.
8. When lasagna is finished, bring him in to admire it. Get feelings hurt when he just stares at me, exhausted from a day with the kids on his own.
8. Two weeks later, clean up mess and declare kitchen once again “safe” for the children. Get angry that he moved my bags of stuff for “future recipes” to the garage.
I don’t know why this is how things go when he tackles a project at home. He makes lists—I have seen him. He hates to shop, so you’d think he’d try to minimize his trips to the store. It’s just how things go, whether he’s replacing light bulbs or fixing a leaky faucet.
And I live with it, because I love him. And because I don’t want to fix the leaky faucet.