The other day it was my turn and, after entering my apartment and reassuring my dog that I still love her, I went to the kitchen and began preparing the nightly repast. My friend, for his part, took a seat and turned on the news. This was perfectly fine with me since, first, I actually like to see the national news (Although local news is usually a pestilence) and, second, I prefer to cook alone. If I must cook with another person I am unusually insistent upon hierarchy, such that one of us must be in charge and the other merely an assistant. Those of you who cook understand why this is.
As I busied myself in the kitchen, however, it occurred to me that I was lucky that my Hypothetical-Roommate didn't happen by. If he had, doubtless he would have remarked something along the lines of, "Wow, Drek. You're going to make someone a great wife someday."
To this, I can only respond: Why yes. Yes I will.
I only hope that my future husband is a good enough provider to keep me in the style to which I have grown accustomed. Then again, under the circumstances, I don't imagine that will prove all that difficult for her.