When I met my hubby, he was a pretty typical bachelor type. He was a frat boy (though not the prototypical PCU type...the type that frat boys are supposed to be...cute, ambitious, intelligent and generous to a fault), and the extent of his interest in cooking included macaroni and cheese and the occasional fried egg.
When we moved in together, we assumed somewhat typical domestic roles. I did the cooking. He watched the football. Neither of us cleaned, but when we did, I did the detail work and he did the spot cleaning and putting things away.
Then came marriage...and not too much changed. Then came kids. Somehow the man I love got all mushy and went domestic on me. Somewhere in his psyche there was a switch that flipped, and he has turned, over the course of time since we've had children, into a domestic god. He changes diapers. He puts children to bed. Somewhere in there, we decided that I should go to medical school, and he decided that he needed to cook more so they could subsist on something other than boiled pasta and veggies with butter and parmesan cheese while I was in school.
He became quite adventurous, first starting with breakfast. There were homemade waffles, buttermilk pancakes, french toast, scrambled eggs (and not the kind that you could bounce off the floor and have hit the ceiling, either, but good the good cheesy kind) and other breakfast treats. He mastered these with ease and moved on to dinner fare. I think he realized that cooking really is nothing more than a little chemistry and math...something that an engineer might not have too much trouble getting a grip on. He cooks more than I do these days, which really is pretty sad considering I'm the one who's home more than he is.
So tomorrow is his Turkey Day feast at work, where they will deep fry a turkey (I'm so jealous!) and gorge on potluck goodies. He needed to bring a dessert, so he decided he would bring chocolate chip cookies. Now dear hubby could easily have gone down to the Acme and grabbed a box of cookies from their bakery, put them in a Tupperware from home, and pretended like he made them, but not now that he's Mr. Domestic. He came home from work, asked me if we had the goods to make them (which we actually did), and he and the boys put together a batch of HOMEMADE FROM SCRATCH chocolate chip cookies this evening. Wish that I'd been home to get the pictures, but I wasn't. I came home from our birthNETWORK meeting to the scent of fresh baked, still warm cookies cooling on the counter. I, being the Queen of Roundness, could not resist, and they were wonderful (not that I had any doubts about his possible cookie-making prowess). Hats off to the man. Yeah, I know...this one's a keeper.