I hate to cook. Always have. I try to avoid anything kitchen related actually. I've blamed my mother, and so since then she's been buying me cook books. I can blame her for never teaching me, I can't blame her for the fact that I hate doing it.
Today was Bill's 2nd tattoo day in a row (see yesterday's post for some info on that). He spent 5 hrs yesterday getting tattooed, and 5 hrs today getting work on a seperate piece. There's a convention in March that our tattoo artist wants to enter some of our tattoos into the competitions, so we're scrambling to finish them in time. ANYWAYS, with Bill feeling a little... sore... he didn't feel like cooking tonight. And I really don't blame him. I know after I get any tattoo work done I don't feel like doing much besides watch TV and nap a bit (which is exactly what he's doing right now). So dinner prep fell to me tonight.
I can't say it was fancy, but it was historic- I made dinner. I have done it before in the past, but not recently. I thought I'd get photographic evidence that it does happen at least once in a while though.