Pressure Cooker

When I was a kid Sunday dinner would take my parents hours. There were always a million pots and pans, a pressure cooker, electric knife, veg being chopped from 9am onwards, stuffing made from scratch, Yorkshire puds made from scratch (with one spare to have with some jam for pudding!) Today, for the first time in 32 years the roles were reversed and I (I mean we) cooked my parents dinner. Sadly I hate cooking, I don't see it as pleasurable, it just makes a mess of my nice clean kitchen. In all honesty Mr P does the cooking and I clean up around him. For me GBBO stands for "Great British Bore Off" and fortunately everything we have is always the easy option: the freezer is my friend, and other than the chicken and a few carrots everything else was pretty much pre-done! Throughout this process of "cooking" my husband and I spoke more than we have all week. Most of it was nasty snapping, but it's better than silence. This afternoon, after a few more little digs we eventually talked. Proper talk. Honest, brutal, difficult, but very very welcome. Last night I honestly felt like I might run away and leave him. Today i love him and would fight to the death for him. Things may be crap but as long as we have each other I know there will be someone to dry my tears...eventually.