Chicken Pasta

Harry tried to follow the recipe to the T. His wife, Maya, loved Chicken Pasta. And he had promised her he would cook it for her tonight. However, now that the spaghetti was overcooked and the chicken was slightly burnt, it didn't seem like a good idea anymore. Harry thought of throwing it away, ordering a fresh one from Uber Eats and telling Maya he had made it. But it would be dishonest. And he never lied to Maya.

“I am starving,” she said as soon as she came home from work. She sat down on the table, and tapped her fingers.

“Won’t you get cleaned up first?” Harry mumbled. Maybe he could whip up some eggs or instant noodles, while she changed her clothes.

“No, I want to eat the pasta,” Maya smiled. “I cannot wait.”

Harry sighed, and put the overcooked dish on the table.

Maya sniffed at the chicken and took a spoonful of the spaghetti. She held a poker face for 5 seconds, before bursting into laughter.

“This is…interesting,” she giggled and reached for the water.

“I am sorry,” Harry mumbled.

Maya continued to laugh, but leaned forward to quickly give him a kiss.

“In honor of your transition from instant noodles to burnt pasta, I am going to order pizza. Your prize for taking the next step as a cook.”

“Maya, you don't have to be so nice,” Harry shrugged but Maya rubbed her nose against his.

“I love you. For trying. One cook at a time,” she smiled.

And thank god for the pizza that arrived in 20 minutes! Because even Lois, their cat, walked off with dignity when she smelt the pasta bowl next morning.