My wife, Robin, professes to hate oriental food, yet her favorite meal is, beyond all doubt, chicken teriyaki. There is much danger in a spouse or girl friend proclaiming that something you prepare is their favorite. Especially if it happens to be something that is (as far as my recipes go) fairly time consuming.
If they like it enough, they will be asking for the same meal repeatedly, and you will be stuck making it because there is no denying a pleading woman when she has her heart set on chicken teriyaki. The key to avoiding this vicious cycle lies in mastering the devious art of sublime centrifugal entropy. Don't be put off by the scientific title, you have undoubtedly practiced this ancient marshal art in your spare time at home and not even realized it. It involves spreading chaos wherever you roam. When you come home from a hard days work, you shed your shoes, your tie, your jacket and other miscellany in the most convenient corner. Your wife has chastised you for this behavior, but you profess to be incapable of controlling your actions. The same can be done while cooking. With chicken teriyaki you can spill rice from the package onto the floor, scatter bean sprouts over the stove as you stir fry, sprinkle teriyaki sauce inadvertently into the sugar bowl. Be creative, come up with our own mess-making activities.
"This is all well and good," you say, "but who is going to clean up these little messes?"
This is the sublime part. You will make an effort to clean, but will prove once and for all that the Y chromosome is indeed missing the clean gene; I don't have to feign this ineptness for cleanliness and order; it comes natural to me.
The result will either be a court settlement whereby you give up the kids, the house and whatever pocket change you have collected in jars over the years or you will come to an arrangement similar to the one that my wife and I have made. Because I am so bad at cleaning, my wife insists on performing this duty. In addition, she lets me choose the meals, because she knows the entropic effect will be far less if I am making what I want. However, she likes teriyaki so much that, in spite of the mess, we have it every Sunday evening.
I find it curious that this is also the night she generally claims to have a headache, and I get stuck with the dishes. You don't suppose she is practicing her own subtle art?
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