I am the primary cook in our house. This means I cook for myself, Eric, the 2 kneebiters, Eric's dad (who lives with us) and - while he stays with us during the week - Eric's brother, Scott.
Let me preface the rest by saying simply: I don't like to cook. And I'm not very good at it either.
So, in the past year I went from cooking for 2 adults, a kid and a baby to 4 adults and 2 kids. And I didn't get to go to some kind of cooking boot-camp to help me figure it out. My menu consists mainly of spaghetti, hamburgers, chicken and veggies, and pretty much anything that comes in an 'add milk' box. I have tried my best to branch out, to cook different things, to provide a non-repetitive series of meals to the birds in my overflowing nest.
But, no matter what I try, Eric's dad doesn't like it.
And. It. Makes. Me. Want. To. Pull. My. Hair. Out. By. The. Roots. Which would be fine if more of my hair was gray.
Tonight I made lasagna:
Easy, check.
From the box, …