I don't mean when a man does the "Come-over-next-Thursday-I'll-make-dinner" sort of cooking. I mean, the spur of the moment, extemporaneous, "I'll-do-a-little-something-for-us-shall-I?" sort of cooking.
Believe me, I have far better people to quote than Paris Hilton, but, as she is wont to say, "That's hot!"
The D.E.B. took over the kitchen today, and I found myself feeling territorial and turned on, all at the same time. Unfortunately, territorial had the edge, and I had to resist the urge to correct or advise ("That flame's up awful high, don't cha think?" or "Are you really going to out those two ingredients together...in the same dish?") But, all I had to do was remind myself that this was meant to be a TREAT and that I am meant to enjoy it, and not use this occasion as a Gordon Ramsay "teachable moment."
Watching the D.E.B. cook is incredibly sexy, and makes me want to have his child. Right now.