I'll be the first one to admit, I have few strengths in the kitchen (besides opening a bottle of wine, which I can do in less than 10 seconds). McHotty does most of our cooking, and on the days he's on shift, Cakes and I eat a lot of pasta.
Luckily, Cakes is not a fussy eater. She prefers things raw to cooked, and she doesn't like her foods mixed. She's happy to eat some roast chicken, brown rice, and cherry tomatoes for dinner several nights a week.
So, it's no surprise that Cakes doesn't have much faith in my culinary abilities. I'm fine with that. But I must admit, it hurt my feelings just a little bit when I went to add the milk to her Kraft Dinner yesterday and she burst into tears and shrieked, "no! no! daddy do it!"