I bought this lasagna for my hubby to feed the kids while I was out of town last weekend, but he never got around to it.  I’m guessing it’s because there were too many steps involved.  See, when it comes to anything in the kitchen, if there’s more than one “step,” my husband withdraws.  As with his finances and his fashion, Derrick is very conservative with his Steps.

Example:  If I’m leaving for the evening and there’s a pizza in the oven, I’ll say, “Honey, in about ten minutes when the timer goes off, can you take the pizza out of the oven?”

“Sure.”  This will be said without looking up from his phone.

“Okay.  Then, let it cool for a few minutes, slice up some pieces up for the kids, and–”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!  That’s alot of steps.  Let me get a pen…”  I’ll then wait quietly for approximately one minute while he gropes haplessly around the kitchen for a pen.  After approximately one minute,

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I will hand him a pen and a post-it note.  He will take both wordlessly, eyebrows now furrowed and expression studious.  He will stick the post-it note to the counter and lean deeply over it, pen poised and ready to write.

“Okay.  Break it down for me.”

I will then explain to him, slowly, how to remove said pizza from the oven and serve it to the children.  He will take copious notes, organized by Steps and SubSteps for clarity.  This system is slow but it works–until I go out of town.  Because then, regardless of the explicit instructions on the box of whatever he’s “making,” there’s nobody to dictate “Step 1:  Open freezer and remove lasagna” for him.  And can you imagine the number of steps that would follow?  You’ve got Step 2:  Opening the box.  Step 3:  Preheating the oven.  Step 4:  Listening for the preheat beep.  Step 5:  Opening the oven door.  Step 6:  Changing the oven rack position.  Step 7:  Placing lasagna on oven rack…and ohmygosh it goes on and on and on.  I’m getting exhausted just thinking about all the Steps.  No wonder he ignored the lasagna and took the kids out for Indian food instead; forty dollars is a small price to pay when your sanity’s at stake.  I mean, the lasagna effort fell on Friday night after a long week of work and church.  Didn’t the poor guy have enough on his mind without having to become Emeril and look good doing it?

The good news is that, due to my husband’s Steplessness, I didn’t have to make dinner tonight.

The bad news is that the upper left hand corner of that box boasts the Great Value brand, which everyone knows is code for WalMart.  Yep, I didn’t even spring for Marie Callenders.  It’s getting bad around here, people.