Cleaver?.....Cleaver?......Cleaver?

Where is June Cleaver when you need her? All prefect hair, pearls and pies? I am not, NOT June Cleaver, not Betty Crocker, I align more with Mr Jiffy Mix. I'm not saying I can't cook, I in fact CAN COOK, but ever since F has come into my life, I've become a bumbling fool in the kitchen. I over cook, I under cook, and last night, I set ablaze. Mind you, I never thought that I was the kind of woman who believed being a good cook was important in getting and keeping a man. If you don't like it, go make something else, that has been my motto. But with F? I'm all, Do you like it Ward? Would like like more pie Ward? Is it tender enough Ward? Would you like me to warm it up for you Ward? Can I feed you Ward? Ok, maybe not that last one, but you get my meaning. When it comes to cooking for F, I get all June-ish. I want it all to be wonderful so he can boast to his friends, "DH, she cooks a mean meal." As things are now? I think he's afraid to invite people over for dinner in case I give them all e-coli. I grabbed a few apples yesterday and decided I was going to make my man a homemade, with love, dessert. He was tired and hungry when he called with still an hour drive home ahead of him. I started scrounging in the freezer for something to cook and came across the steaks we stock piled back in July. Good sized, enough left over for lunch, PREFECT. Let's fast forward to me throwing said steaks onto the nice hot grill. I turned it down and headed back into the house to make my lovely dessert. I'm pealing away at the apples and think to myself, I should go check on the steaks. I look out the window to see smoke, lots and lots of black smoke. I run out the door, and see flames. I'm not talking the little flare-up flames, I'm talking full on, burn the garage down, blow-up the gas grill kind of flames. The ENTIRE INSIDE OF THE GRILL WAS ON FIRE. Those prefect steaks? CHARCOAL. It took a good 10mins for the flames to die down. The wooden brush used to clean the grill, burned. It was setting on the grille's side burner(not turned on). That's how far out of the grill the flames were reaching. When I told F, he said, "cool." When I showed him the steaks that were burned but still raw, "No big deal. don't worry about it." He ate the steak(after I nuked it), said he couldn't have burned them better himself, said they were good.

I didn't burn the dessert, which he loved.

But I did set the hot pad on fire getting it out of the oven.