The clatter of pots pulled me from sleep. One sniff of the scorched air and I already knew—her.

I found her in the kitchen.

“What exactly are you doing?”

She jumped, shirt wrinkles. “I was just hungry…”

I sighed, “Hungry enough to burn the house down?”

Her pout, but didn’t resist when I put her onto the counter, before I took over to cooked.

I set the bowl in her hands.

I brushed her hair back with a tired smile. “Next time, wake me. I’d rather cook for you than find you burn the kitchen.”

She just grinned. “Thanks hub.”

My trouble little wife, I thought as she happily slurped her noodles.