First Marrieds

When first married, I could not cook. There was no complaint from my young groom saint. Because of me, he endured Chef Boy- ArDi, and also-rans from lots of cans. Never prone to expansive praise, save a mild retort if his bride fell short of grooming perfection that went by the book, a simple retort, "I KNOW how you can look." That was his worst, all the while becoming a first- class cook-- I, his kitchen scrub nurse. And, after years of leaven as good bread must rise, we honed a marriage forged in heaven.