Hubby's gift

I feel the need to set the record straight. In this house, Hubby does the cooking. And there's a very good reason for that. No, it's not because I'm a lazy couch potato, but then again, that could very well be part of it. It's because I am extremely anal. I am the reason they created recipes.
Hubby finds it comical to watch me in the kitchen. And he thinks it's downright hysterical to watch me make a box of Kraft Mac n Cheese. Yes, it does matter that the macaroni be cooked in exactly 2 cups of boiling water. Why? I don't know. Other than that, I'm just a good rule follower.
So, Hubby has this extraordinary gift that I feel the need to celebrate every night. Isn't that what we're supposed to do with someone's gifts? Anyway, he has this ability to go to the refrigerator, pull a few things out, and then go to the cabinets and do the same, and it doesn't really matter whether the things appear to go together or not, he then turns them into a feast fit for a King, or a Queen, in my case.
But you see, I don't have this gift. Because, even if the items appear to go together, when I get done, the dog won't even eat it.
Now, Baking, that's a whole other issue. Because, you really do need to measure exactly and follow a recipe, then. Have you ever tried to wing it with the yeast or baking powder? I rest my case.
But don't think for a minute that I get off footloose and fancy free. Because I am on permanent kp duty. And let me tell you, there's a whole lot of mess making when Hubby is having to be so creative. You know how artists' are, don't you? No offense, but they're not known for their, shall we say, "cleanliness"?
And that brings me to last night's kitchen catastrophe. It doesn't happen very often, but when it does. Well, look out! Sometime during his creativity, he got distracted. No, I didn't parade through in my Victoria's Secret nightie with my stilletos on. That only happens on the second Thursday of every week or once in a blue moon, whichever comes first.
His distraction might have happened when the kids were running amock, and I was nowhere to be found. That's just a guess. What I do know, however, is that somewhere along the way, Hubby forgot to turn down the rice he was making. He kind of left it on hi for a little too long. And my first clue came when I ate my first bite of rice. It tasted a little smokey, if you know what I mean.
But I know my Hubby's fragile ego and didn't want to say anything. I learned a long time ago that if I even hinted about not liking something he prepared, I'd be cooking for the next several weeks, and I wasn't about to let that happen again.
However, after a few bites, I politely and ever so kindly asked him if something had happened to the rice. That's when he told me that he just might have forgotten to turn the temperature down.
But I didn't realize the severity of his mishap until my clean up duties began. I'll just say that the bottom 1/4 of the pan was burned to a crisp. It was so burned that when I added water to the pot it instantly turned brown and smelled like burned coffee. It's a good thing I have a cast iron stomach, because after letting it soak for awhile, it still smelled like burned coffee, except with the rice puffing up, it now looked like a pot full of maggots and burned coffee. YUCK!
Well, fortunately, I get a break from kp duty tonight. We'll be having a picnic dinner at the middle child's, soon to be, home away from home. He starts Kindergarten in a little less than 2 weeks. Don't get me started. There will be a whole lot of Kleenex involved. So, we'll all go and meet his teacher, for the next 2 years, she loops, and his soon to be fellow classmates.
And I'll get some relief from burned coffee and maggots, at least for tonight.