If I needed any reminders as to why David is not allowed to touch anything in my kitchen, I got it last night.
We are having a ton of guests this weekend for Homecoming, and I have been frantic trying to clean, get groceries, finish up homework, etc. So David offered his assistance last night while I made dinner and cleaned the upstairs bathroom and spare bedroom.
I had an easy meal ready to go (Russian chicken is what we call it...it's Russian dressing, apricot preserves and dry onion soup mix all mixed together and then put on chicken. It creates this glaze that's a little Chinese food like, and it's awesome). I usually serve it with rice.
So I had the chicken in the oven, and the boiling (well almost) pot of water on the stove. Next to the pot was the box of boil in a bag rice...much like this.
While upstairs cleaning, D yells up at me, "The water is boiling now, do you want me to go ahead and put the rice in?"
To which I replied, "Yep! Two bags! It boils ten minutes and then we're ready."
A few minutes later, David comes up the stairs and says, "I put the lid on and set the timer for 10 minutes."
K: "Oh, the lid doesn't go on."
And for some reason, this comment he made had me realizing what he had most likely done. Not sure why, but I do know my husband pretty well, so I thought I would go ahead and ask...
K: "Did you take the rice out of the bag?"
D: "Way to have faith in me...of course I did, I'm not a moron."
K: "You're not supposed to take the rice out of the bag, that's why it's called 'boil in bag' rice."
D: "Oh shit." As he runs back down the stairs. "Does this mean it's ruined?"
Yes. And so are all your future chances of ever "helping" me in the kitchen, honey.