Why my husband doesn’t cook

Posted at Dec 21, 2008 6:35 am

So I had a favorite silly hubby story which I liked to tell: how he tried to heat a little oil in a pot and somehow managed to set the kitchen on fire in the process.
Today I think he gave me a better story.  It began with an attempt to warm up some burekas in the oven. It ended with a terrible burning smell and this exclamation: "I can’t get the oven door to open!"

He had set the oven to "self clean,"  not bake, and the burekas were…. slightly overdone by the time the oven cooled down and the door unlocked. The house still reeks.  *grin*

I am still in the process of filling out the paperwork for the start of my histaklut. I have done everything I can from my end… and I still get the feeling that I will return from Atlanta in mid-January and no one will know what is going on.  C’est la vie…
Or in Hebrew: Zeh ma sheh-yaish. (That’s what we have.)

I finished Wally Lamb’s book, all 900 pages.  I think the greatest praise that I can bestow is that I read the final chapter crouched over the bathroom sink because that was the only light on in the house. (long story)  I know I was luke-warm in my last entry but I would like to retract my former reservations. It was a great read and very very well written.

I fly out to Atlanta next week and am going to be sans family for two weeks. Working, mostly. And stocking up on South Beach bars. 

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