People have their quirks and the gradation of those idiosyncracies can be the difference between sanity and annoyance.

I’ve had my own. And it’s this: the cook in the kitchen. For years I’ve watched you julienne and simmer and saute. Action verbs surround you like an aroma. It was with some regret that I am not allowed in that kitchen, given the status in my household and the dominion I thought I had over it. It is but a shell  of a power.A formality for houseguests, neighbors, the UPS guy. It’s humiliating to have to wait to be served, my hands no longer in any pies. My editcs but caramelized.

This is what happens when you let someone make the hors d’oeuvres. When you let them ladle the smallest of soups.