I'm going to take a leap of faith and make the general assumption that I'm a decent cook. Neither Lyndon nor I have died after a meal yet, so that has to be a good sign. Even though the end result is usually a good one, the process is something entirely different. Things are spilled, food on the stove boils over, whatever is in the oven is left in for too long, I cut myself, things in the microwave explode, pots and pans are left in the sink for a while, the stove has food all over it, etc.
The whole cutting thing is not pretty. On three separate occasions has that happened. I was doomed the day we opened our wedding gifts and got four sets of knives. I mean really, four sets? One of the times, poor Lyndon came home from work to see his wife with blood running down her hand under water in the kitchen sink. Another time, while washing a knife, it slipped and slashed my knuckle and then continued to bleed for 15 minutes.
As far as dishes being left in the sink, I blame that on my childhood. My sister and I always had to wash dishes after dinner. It was always a battle over who got to wash and who got to dry. Some of my dishes, I use all the time, but I can't put them in the dishwasher. That always just sounds like the worst after making dinner and cleaning up; therefore, they're left in the sink for quite some time.
Conclusion: I've accepted that I'm never going to be a clean, tidy cook. Who cares? As long as I don't drip blood into the food, what's the problem? ...gross
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