Because He Can't Cook Either

I love him
Because he can't cook either

We try
God knows we both try
But it's--

It's bad news
It's just straight-up bad news

We've set fires
We've destroyed kitchens
We've broken sturdy appliances

One time we thought
We could make a souffle
And somehow we ended up
With lasagna...?

Yeah, I don't know

We've attempted dinner parties
We've attempted soirees
We've attempted brunch-at-home

We've attempted picnics
And failed
We failed
At picnics

On a very Annie Hall-esque night
We spent two hours
Chasing a lobster around our kitchen
Screaming every time it came near us

It wasn't the most effective pursuit
I'll give you that

Most of the time we end up eating peanut butter out of the jar
Or pickles out of the jar
Or bacon, lots of bacon

We're not chefs
We're not sophisticated
We're not like those people that listen to NPR
While they smoke their Gouda
And plan their trip to a writers' colony

We're not the people we'd like to be
But we're also a lot funnier
Than the people we'd like to be

We wind up covered in flour
And smelling like oregano
And loving each other
And laughing at our mutant muffins
And our failed poached eggs

We seem to understand
That even when the cake doesn't turn out right
That doesn't mean you can't have fun
Licking the bowl