My Vegetables are Burning

"Life could be dreamed." I sing while I chop the carrots. "If only all my precious plans would come true. If I can spend my whole life loving you. Life could be a dream, Toniiiight. Hello Hello again. Sh-boom. Hoping we'll meet again"

"Hun, that's not the lyrics." My husband teasing me as he enters the kitchen. He doesn't know one thing about the songs I listen to, but has the audacity to tell me that I'm singing the wrong lyrics. I probably am but He should hush.

"Who cares." I place the chopped particles into a bowl. "I'm not changing a damn thing... But change the song, I'm tired of it."

He gives a small laugh and unlocks my phone on the counter, pausing my current song. "You have such old songs. Really? Rockin Robin? Did I marry a fifty year old?"

"Ah come on, Don't bring me down." I pause to laugh to myself. "You wouldn't get that reference cause you suck." I point my knife to him.

"Hey I like old music." He starts, sitting on the counter, not helping me prepare his lunch, "What's The... That song for our wedding." He snaps his fingers. "I think Elvis sang it."

"We didn't have an Elvis song for our wedding. We should have but you wanted something stupid." I walk over to the fridge to retrieve some celery stalks.

"Hey. Don't disrespect the artists." He wags his finger at me. "They spend a lot of time working on their songs." I head over to the cutting board. "And I hope you're putting corn in that fried rice."

I roll my eyes. "You could hope but it's not going to happen. And by the way, every modern rapper is like 'I got so much money, girls and cars'. But no, I'm sure it takes years to write."

He scoffs, "You listen to Bruno Mars all the time and he sings about all the money and girls."

"I'll let Bruno Mars slip by cause he did say he wanted to be a millionaire and told us to prepare." I put the celery into a bowl, then squat down to take out a pot from the cupboard underneath. "And he's not selfish about it. Most of his songs are about spending his money on his girlfriend... something that you don't do."

"Why do you argue so much?" He opens the cupboard near him and pulls out a can of corn.

"Because I'm just so good at it." As I retrieve my pot, I make sure to rinse it out before I put it on the stove. Which everyone should do by the way.

As I place my pot on the stove, I see from my peripheral vision that this man is opening a can of corn, so now I have to use it cause he knows I don't like to waste food.

"You're so helpful when we don't need your help."

"We? You finally admit that you have other people up there." He pokes my forehead.

"I will burn you." I push past him to grab the bottle of oil as the residue of the water in the pot burns out.

"You're cute when you think you're threatening." He grins, heading to the sink with a strainer and the can of corn. I watch the little bubbles in the pot disappear before throwing a bit of oil into the pot.

"I was having such a good time, jamming out to music and then you come in here with your corn." I tease him. A symphony of sizzles erupt as I toss the diced carrots and celery into the pot.

"I'll sing for you, so you can jam out." He offers.

"Cringe." I push past him to get a cup of water. "Why you always in my way?"

"Why you so rude this morning?" He looks down at me with a half offended, half amused expression on his face.

"Mike, we have a whole kitchen and you choose to stand right next to me, when I'm busy."

"I like to be near you." he states matter of factly.

"Ah." I say, looking up at him, my face betrays me breaking into a smile. However, I don't want to accept the compliment after he got me annoyed.

"Your veges are burning."

Turning around, I pour some water into the pot, stir my veges then cover it to let it steam. Moving away from the pot, I see my husband putting his paws into the mushroom bowl.

Sighing, I join him in eating the ingredients. Neither of us had breakfast this morning. It's sort of engrained into our system. Growing up Christian, you basically forget to eat breakfast on Sundays.

"Living together in a pandemic really makes me not like you sometimes." I confess. "Sorry for being on a short fuse."

"Hun, I'm not angry at you. I thought we were playfully insulting each other."

"I don't mean today. I'm thinking of the rest of the week." I turn to check on my vegetables. "Falling asleep on the couch watching tv cause I didn't want to go in our room. Being mad at you all the time."

"That's no big deal. We knew this would happen. I did. I mean, when we were boyfriend and girlfriend, I knew you'd have a hard time staying in one place. You were a nomad for most of your life." He pops a shroom in his mouth, "It's like reverse home sickness. I knew that when we got married what our schedule was going to be like. You legit wrote a schedule and put it on the fridge for a while. You just have trouble adjusting to things."

"I don't know when this thing is going to clear up already." I look down at the ground, "It's not that I want to run away from you and it's not like I need space. I just miss my projects and outside."

"Is this not a great project you're doing right now?" He looks around the kitchen. "You never liked to cook. You had a personal chef."

"Yeah, well cooking has always been stressful for me. I rather work 24/ 7 than cook for five minutes."

"I know." He shrugs, "But you're doing it."

I take his mushroom bowl away and add it to the softened vegetables in the pot.

"And" he adds, "You're doing a great job at it. You don't have to, I don't mind cooking for you all the time which you know already. I walked in here this morning, seeing you enjoying yourself for the first time in a few months. So don't back track your progress Ok?"

"Ok."

"Now stay in the kitchen where you belong."

I start walking out of the kitchen, fully intending to leave him with the cooking. Realizing his dumb mistake quickly, he laughs and tries to erase his words.

"Alright, I'm sorry, too far. I'll shut up now."

He pulls me into a hug. I shimmy out of his grasp. "My vegetables are burning."