My husband won’t eat eggs.  However, he awoke this morning determined to hard boil a dozen eggs.  He looked up the “recipe” on Google and began the process.  Unfortunately the timer went off as he headed to the bedroom to breakup a cat fight.  I skated my way into the kitchen and took the eggs in the pan and ran very cold water on them. Two had exploded in the hot water, so I threw them out.  Yuck!  We began to peel the eggs.  He was cracking them, and not peeling.  So I had to peel the ten eggs.  It is amazing to me that an egg hater would be so into hard boiled eggs.

Now we are going to tackle scalloped potatoes.  He hates pork chops, but I found them in the chest freezer.  He has laid down this deck of pork chops onto paper towels to defrost.  This is early to prepare a dinner before my second cup of coffee. Newly retired, he has some time on his hands.  My dad went through this era years ago.  He bought the cooking equipment and we gave him an apron that was not feminine. His goal:  Hungarian Goulash.  It took a day.  My mother, an obsessive compulsive cleaner who was born with a dishcloth in her hand completely lost it when she saw the mess in the kitchen.  He was summarily “fired” from cooking in her kitchen.  His new hobby was to walk down the beach to meet up with a gaggle of other maligned retired men.  They all smoked big cigars and talked about the pros and cons of retirement.

The next year they went to Las Vegas.  Now, there’s a hobby that both enjoyed.  He played penny slots, and the sleepy Keno, and Bingo.  He had lost twenty bucks in the quarter slots in a heartbeat.  So, pennies were okay if they paid off once in awhile.  My mother was happy because her kitchen was clean while they were in Vegas.