A first for everything

I cry a lot when it comes to food.

Most of the time these tears come from meals that didn't turn out the way I really wanted them to.

When a bad cooking experience comes my way, Taylor lives off of frozen burritos for a week. I live off of cereal. Cooking is out of the question.

I bought steak. I looked up a highly rated marinade on allrecipes.com. It was going to be great.

It wasn't steak. The marinade smelled awful. It turned out terribly.

My husband would eat his toenails if he had to. He couldn't finish this. Our rice was mush, our carrots were hard, and the beef was absolutely revolting. (In an attempt to save the meat, we made a rice dish with it. I have never experienced anything so unsavory, which is saying a lot - considering I lived and ate in Russia.)

However, there IS a first for everything.

For the first time in our marriage, I didn't cry over the ruined dinner.
In fact, I may have laughed.

But right now, our apartment still smells bad.
And that, my friends, is no laughing matter.