Once in a great while my husband prevails upon me to wake up early and cook breakfast for everyone. This is such a rare opportunity that even Mina looks wide-eyed seeing me in front of the stove wild-haired and eyes full of muta (eye boogers) so early in the morning.
But today’s breakfast illustrates why I really do not have much motivation to do the cooking. There are a few reasons, really.
- My husband is picky and that’s fine. He’s the better cook so I understand when he thinks something could’ve been done better. My point is, don’t bother me about not cooking if you’re gonna pick apart and/or ignore what I’ve cooked eh?
- He thinks something I’ve cooked is undercooked.
- My husband is picky.
- All of the above.
Today was not much different. I cooked scrambled eggs, chicken apple sausage from Trader Joe’s and toast with nutella on the ready. The Trader Joe’s sausage is something we have in the fridge ready to be a breakfast item on a regular basis.
Here’s what it looks like.
And here’s how breakfast went. Mina sits down and eats everything as she should. Woody sits down, eats the eggs, picks up a slice of the chicken sausage, eyeballs it, eats one reluctantly, then proceeds to ignore the rest. Take note, this sausage is awesome. Full of flavor with a touch of sweetness, without being all beefy fatty.
Innocently, I ask him what the heck is the matter with him and why won’t he eat the darned sausage. All right, I ask it a bit nicer.
“Oh, I don’t know. It doesn’t look cooked.” He replies.
“It comes cooked, I just warmed it up it on the stove. And do you see the caramelized bits?” I ask him in a puff.
He smiles and nods, then stands up non-chalantly announcing he’s getting his coffee. He proceeds to sneak into the fridge to look at the package, because of course he doesn’t believe me. Look at the picture above gentle reader. Go ahead. I’ll wait. It says fully cooked yes?
Yes! It is. And do you think I had that memorized from this morning? No. I had that fact memorized because this exact same scenario happened a few weeks ago. The poking at the sausage, him telling me he doesn’t think he’s cooked, me telling him it comes fully cooked, him sneaking to the fridge to look at the sausage. Exact. Same. Scenario.
So there you go. I feel completely exonerated from claims that I don’t cook enough. Hubs has years of experience on me, and it’s not as if I can catch up. He’s older and he’s been cooking longer so my question is why bother. I’ll just sleep in thank you very much.