How Did We Get There?

I was going to do a bit of venting about the fracas at dinner tonight, but then my son meekly knocked on my door and came in to apologize, so, never mind.

When I cook beans for dinner I'm really not out to ruin his evening, but somehow it often does. We told him, as he sat there on the verge of a mental and emotional breakdown over his bowl, that someday he might have a girlfriend who's a lousy cook, but he would need to be able to choke down whatever she makes in order not to hurt her feelings. His response?

"I'm allowed to have a girlfriend?!"

Oh boy...