Live with my mother-in-law after giving birth. I cook breakfast at work, she cooks lunch and dinner (I eat at noon), and I cook all day on weekends. Mother-in-law cooks, which belongs to the kind of making do with food, so I do it all when I have time. My husband is the youngest in the family. He can't cook at first. I'm a good cook. So after marriage, I basically cook and he washes the dishes. After the mother-in-law came, she didn't give up letting her son cook. After all these years, she came over.
I had an operation in April this year. After the operation, I was required to stay in bed and not carry heavy things. During the hospitalization, I told my husband that you should learn to cook when you go home, or let your mother cook every day. She is too cruel. I still want to tell my mother-in-law when I get home. As a result, my mother-in-law gave up on the first meal. When I got home from the hospital, it was almost 10: 30, and nothing was prepared. At that time, you could only eat semi-liquid food. My husband wants to stew me some chicken soup or sparerib soup. Chicken and ribs are frozen in the refrigerator, so it's too late to melt. Fortunately, when I was discharged from the hospital, my brother gave me some pigeons and chickens, took them out and chopped them, cooked them in a pressure cooker, and then put them on my hungry chest. I only drank a bowl of millet porridge in the morning.
During the two months I called in sick, I gave directions while cooking. My husband completely evolved from a small kitchen to a Chinese kitchen (not a master), and learned basic cooking and soup making. The taste is OK, far exceeding that of her mother-in-law. But maybe he is really not interested in cooking. He doesn't cook complicated dishes. Mother-in-law, from the first meal she came back, she showed her husband how much water to add, how long to stew, how much noodles to eat, and never cooked again. She didn't come out of the room to eat until the meal was ready.
After two months of sick leave, I began to work. My husband had to nurse my body and cook, but he also gave up. At noon and in the evening, he always goes to the restaurant to pack rice and comes back to eat. After three months, my body recovered almost. On weekends, we sometimes cook at home together.