He lowered his voice. ‘Listen to yourself. I thought we’d agreed this. We all know you can’t cook. Isn’t it better this way?’ I blinked at him. ‘Honey, don’t you remember? We talked about it earlier, about how you burn everything you bake, how you can’t be trusted in the kitchen.’ He laughed, looking around the table, appealing to the others sitting there. ‘Come on, you can’t be mad about this. Don’t you remember? When I said we should just buy one?’
