[QUOTE=Anne Neville]
I was going to say it is sexy, until I read this. I would wonder about a man who couldn’t cook.
If he couldn’t cook because he had always lived with family or roommates who cooked for him and never lived on his own, I wouldn’t be interested. I couldn’t deal with a man who can’t be independent.
If he couldn’t cook because he ate out all the time, I’d wonder if our financial styles were compatible. It would be OK if he managed to live within his means while doing it, but I don’t like keeping close track of a budget- it would be a problem if he were used to living near the edge of or beyond his means.
If he couldn’t cook because he could only fix Pasta-Roni or similar and that’s not cooking, I’d worry that he’d hold me to a too-high standard on cooking. I’m not the most energetic person, and I’m usually not up to cooking from scratch when I come home from work, and often don’t want to on a weekend, either.
If he didn’t cook because that’s women’s work- I hate traditional gender roles and the idea that some jobs should be for men and others for women, so byeeee…
[/QUOTE]
My husband’s closest to the Pasta-Roni cook. When I say he “can’t cook”, I mean he hasn’t learned to cook. His own mother cooked for him when he lived at home, his schools cooked for him in school and his microwave cooked for him when he lived on his own. If left to his own devices, he’ll fix nothing but pasta, Boca burgers and cereal. Anything else, he’ll buy premade. He’ll take a chick patty, nuke it with salsa and cheese and eat it on a tortilla, but I don’t consider that “cooking”, really. (Not that I haven’t been known to do that on a rough night just to get a meal on the table, but I don’t kid myself that I’ve “cooked” on those occasions. I’ve arranged and nuked premade food, that’s all.)
We’ve been together 8 years, and he’s made dinner once. It was good. He made veggie wraps with sprouts and cucumber slices and cheese and hummus. I think he even soaked couscous in hot water for a side dish. Still not "cooking’, but at least it was vaguely healthy.
It’s not a deal-breaker for us. I like to cook, and though I wish he would, once in a while at least, it’s fine with me the way it is or I wouldn’t put up with it. The fact that it’s broken down by gender lines is a coincidence, not a compulsion.
But would I jump his bones if he at least tried? Oh, yeah. He’d jump my bones if he came home and the house was sparkling clean, too. (I suffer the same “Mess? I don’t see it.” malady your husband does, Aangelica.)
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