Perhaps my last post about me being a gourmet and such was a wee bit premature. I recently went to visit my husband who has been away on business for a long enough span that I was compelled to go visit him. During my stay, the hubs asked me to make some oatmeal for him one morning. Despite the utter lack of measuring devices and all familiar kitchen accoutrements, I agreed, because I am a team player and I make oatmeal multiple times a week and have mastered it.
What was intended to be a little stove-top-cooked pot of stick-to-your-ribs love turned out to be something else. Something solid and inedible with the ability to defy gravity. That's right, DEFY GRAVITY. When hubs saw the abomination that was supposed to be his breakfast, he grabbed the pot, turned it upside down, and NOTHING HAPPENED. Not even one little lump of gluey horrendousness fell to the floor. And then my husband proceeded to laugh at me. A lot. Very loudly.
And that is why perhaps my previous post may have been a teensy, tinsy, almost imperceptible bit premature.