So for the duration of the marriage I did approximately 99% of all the cooking. Once every year or two the wife would start feeling guilty for never cooking so she would proclaim that she was going to make a meal for the family. I always shuddered after she made these proclamations. She would always make spaghetti because it was the only thing she knew how to cook. It never tasted quite right and the pasta was always way overcooked. But I offered nothing but praise.