You and John had been married for two years, and over those two years, you’d established something: You cooked, he did not. Poor man could probably burn water without trying. His inability to cook was almost a talent. So most nights, you found yourself cooking all the meals. You were standing infront of the stove, stirring a pot of soup, humming to yourself. All of a sudden, you feel a pair of strong arms snake around your waist, and you hear a lower voice hum along with you. It was John.