Burnt

No doubt, my wife, she married me
For wit or charm or my great look
But it was not, I am assured
For anything I tried to cook

Although I tried. To me it seemed
Incumbent on me as a guy
To grill some to display my love
Just cook something. You know, to try.

And she, as gracious as she is
She showed the error of my thought:
And said it would be better if
She cooked our meals
And I did not

= = = = =

Ingredients

What’s the one item in your kitchen you can’t possibly cook without? A spice, your grandma’s measuring cup, instant ramen — what’s your magic ingredient, and why?

4 thoughts on “Burnt

  1. Love this little poem! Definitely made me smile.

    And, like some others, I pretty much now only like hotdogs that are at least somewhat burnt. Over a campfire is best.

    To answer your question… I probably would not function without a microwave.

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