Bad Memories of Bad Cooking

Something happened at my house the other day that brought on some bad memories. And I write this blog post at great risk to myself, but here it goes.  My wife got loose in the kitchen. I know I'm going to get in trouble here, but facts are facts, my wife can't cook!

Last week my youngest daughter asked my wife to make some fresh green beans, so we got some from the farmers market.  My wife threw them in the crock pot, supposedly with seasonings and bacon. The next day they were served.  My daughter and I took one bite and looked at each other and started laughing. Oh my goodness they were horrid!  The good thing about having a dog is it will eat anything, so we both tried to feed our pooch the green beans so my wife wouldn't see us not eating them.  The dog took one bite spit them out, cried and went and hid under the bed.  This is a creature that licks it's own butt!

This is not the first bad experience we have had with my wife's cooking.  When we first got married, she made mashed potatoes FROM A BOX.  Who ever knew there was instant mashed potatoes?  YUCK.  I used to say the only way we knew when things were done was when she would cook two of the same thing, only starting one ten minutes later than the other. When the fire department showed up, we knew the second one was ready to eat.

I used to tease my wife a lot about her cooking on my show, but I've kinda toned that down.  One day we were in the store and a lady came up to my wife and said, "Is your husband Denny Perkins?"  I was down the aisle, so she didn't see me. I thought, "Hey, she must be a fan! I'll mosey on up and say hello."

Well, about the time my wife reluctantly admitted that she was married to me, this lady went on a rant about how if her husband ever said those things about her cooking blah blah blah threat blah blah more threats blah blah, so I sneaked back on down the aisle.

Now most ladies I know would be insulted if their husbands made fun of their cooking, and rightfully so, but to be honest with you, I come from a long line of food critics.

One time while I was staying with my grandparents, I came in for breakfast and my grandmother was in a tizzy.  I said, "Grandma, what's wrong?"  She said, "I can never please that man (my grandfather).  When he got up I asked him what he wanted for breakfast he said 'Two eggs, one fried and one boiled.'"  I said, "Well, that seems simple enough. What went wrong?"  She said, "I fried the wrong egg."

To be honest, my wife cares nothing about cooking, but to be fair, I care nothing about mowing the grass.  So it all evens out.

I  know what you are thinking.  You are saying to yourself, "Hey fat man, you don't look like you have missed too many meals." I say to you... I'm big boned, leave me alone.