Kitchen Politics

Rhia stared at the lump of blackened mass in front of her. This was supposed to be dinner, she thought.

With a sigh, she called up her husband, expecting the usual taunts again. Again, she’d have to admit to being a failure in the kitchen. Again, her mother-in-law would offer to teach her some dishes, and then proceed to remind her of the favour for many years to come. She was well familiar with these games but just didn’t know how to beat them at their own game.

‘Hey, listen,’ she said into the phone, but was soon interrupted by her husband.

‘I’ll be having some colleagues over from work tonight. Call your friends too.’ He said, before explaining about the long meeting he was still stuck in.

Rhia pursed her lips in a secretive smile as she disconnected the call. She quickly called in her reinforcements and then proceeded to erase all evidence of the failed experiment. Her coterie of trusted friends, well versed with their part in the drama, arrived within minutes, and banded together for the big challenge ahead. Together they had an elaborate buffet of snacks and beverages ready before Rhia’s husband arrived with his set of colleagues.

She was finally learning to play the kitchen politics, she thought.