'Cause whenever she ate my food, at least she never said it sucked
So I wasn't the best of cooks, I knew that. Every contest I entered, Mr. Gourmet always had something bad to say about my dish. Well, as long as mine weren't as shitty as Karen's, it was all good.
When I came home empty-handed, Mary would be waiting for me. She'd be sitting on the edge of our bed, frowning a little when I walked in. She already understood what that look meant.
"Another failure!" I threw my hands up in the air, dropping down next to her. "I should really leave the cooking to you."
"The soup you made this afternoon?" She asked, poking my head--which was her way of telling me to get up. "It wasn't a failure, hubby! The leftovers you had…well, Hiro had it, you know. And I'm sure he loved it!"
"Ahh, thanks Mary. I think." Was all I could mutter, my face still buried in the Pikachu bed sheets. But she kept poking my head, so I finally looked up. "What?"
"I never really got to have some…could you make more?" And she gave me a cute little smile.
Ahh, how can I say 'no' to a sweet face like that?
I'll admit…I really did feel bad when she ran to the bathroom five minutes later, throwing it all up.
Shit, guess I really should leave the cooking to her…