I’m in LA for the week playing nurse for my cousin who is recovering from knee surgery. I’m an ok nurse. I can get her water for her meds and change out her ice machine but I am a sorry substitute for her husband who is one of the best cooks I know. I feel like I’m in church when I’m in his kitchen. Like I should light candles and incense before touching any of his beautiful pots and pans. She will just have to suck it up and eat my slop til he gets home.
I miss him so.
Bless her heart, she hasn’t cried once since he left.
Meanwhile I’ve shed a few tears trying to figure out how to use his coffee maker. And the TV remote.