Cooking makes a big freaking mess. Dr. P was running late, and I hit the gym. Thus, there is no piping hot dinner waiting for me on the table. I’m pretending to help cook. But I’m really not allowed to touch anything when Dr. P is in the kitchen. #ragetrigger He’s reading the recipe instructions out loud in a voice where it’s impossible to distinguish between “reading to oneself” and “barking orders.” I hope this ends well. I’m very hungry.