Not that I think I should have to prepare interesting meals - or even meals at all (I'm all for equal distribution of household duties and woman power and all that), but the unfair truth is that for almost 10 years I did make a pretty solid effort in the kitchen, and it's not really fair to lead the poor guy on like that you know? Not to mention the fact that he's a positively hopeless cook (before we met a typical dinner for him would consist of a bag of microwave popcorn or a Mr. Noodles cup - frankly I don't know how he didn't have scurvy).
My tongue-in-cheek claim to be a domestic goddess seems to be less accurate as each day passes - let's face it, I'm no Nigella or Giada. I can see my secret dream of quitting my career in nursing to pursue my interests in the culinary world fading into the past. Maybe I'll be able to revive it one day. But for now...the proverbial Kraft Dinner box will still have a home in my pantry.