She prepared meals for her family almost every night.

Even while working full-time she would surprise them with amazing food — you weren’t allowed to ask what it was beforehand. Barely an evening went by without someone telling the woman how wonderful her kitchen smelled.

Her husband washed the dishes. It was an arrangement both of them found comfortable.

One evening the man surprised his wife by offering to do the cooking every other week. “It’s only fair,” he said. He got the idea when he was exposed to a segment on NPR.

He had some recipes from his single days — most called for ground beef. There were successes and failures as he expanded his repertoire. To his credit he never had to resort to emergency scrambled eggs.

He learned from The Food Network that spices add depth and subtlety. His wife had a lazy-Susan filled with of seasonings. How hard could this be?

The woman enjoyed shopping for weekly specials. Unfortunately her husband wasn’t capable of planning a week’s menu so he ran out every day and bought things his wife already had in the refrigerator.

Another complication was that the woman could fit an array of utensils into very tight quarters. He was never able to crack her algorithm, after he took things out they wouldn’t go back in.

Family etiquette didn’t allow her to complain about the meals he served so she started to critique the pans he chose to fry things. She complained when he dirtied several test bowls before finding the right size. She challenged his presentation skills.

Finally, she flatly refused to wash some pots he had burnt. Since doing the dishes was her job when he cooked, she was now in violation of their contract.

“Okay, I quit,” he said. “I’m not cooking anymore…AND IT SERVES YOU RIGHT!”

The woman had to turn away to hide her smile. What she didn’t want her husband to realize was how desperately she wanted him out of her kitchen.

And he was more than happy to play along. What he didn’t want her to know is how much he wanted things to get back to the way they used to be, back before public radio nearly destroyed their happy home.