God is trying to punk my aspiring chefhusband. There is no doubt in my mind. He is stuck with two diners from hell. A wife with GERD and a son with a milk and nut allergy.
Pushing him as a chef you say? Maybe to a cliff. A Kutcher style shove right off a never ending cliff face while it’s raining soy, so much soy.
I imagine an Asian man in a chef coat shoved in slow motion by Ashton Kutcher with a white fake Santa beard and flowing white and green robes (why green? No clue). Chefhusband is dramatically falling backwards, hands raised up reaching for an impossible edge. Dali styled edamame falling through the sky at a slowed pace, always narrowly missing chefhusband, but not spiraling just sinking.
My plan is to post our food exploits here, diverse and oddball as they may be. Be assured we always have Pepto and an epipen jr at hand.