So one day I came home from work and Marc had roasted a chicken for dinner (it was his night to cook). Yum. He followed a recipe he found online (we love Epicurious) and added some honeyed carrots and a bit of pasta on the side. We all gathered to eat. Only there was one problem - he had adventurously bought a fowl instead of a chicken. It was really cheap, and he figured what could go wrong? It was a mass of rubber.
This is about where we moms might be tempted to burst out laughing and ridicule our husbands for their pathetic cooking knowledge. Or, if we don't have a sense of humor, call them morons (like this Work It Dad story here about - oh the horror - boiling too much pasta; I'm starting to worry about author Avi Spivack). But ESP moms don't get to choose either of these options, unless of course we prefer to be treated this way ourselves when we don't quite do something perfectly.
Belittling our partners when they do housework or childraising tasks imperfectly tends to accomplish two things - it cements the sting in their minds for a long time, and it makes them that much less likely to reach for housework/childraising equality the next time they don't know exactly how things should be done. No one is born with the knowledge of how to boil the right amount of pasta or how a fowl tastes when eaten straight. Men are not to blame if they make mistakes; they are only to blame if they hide behind their 'incompetence' to avoid learning.
So, instead, I bit my tongue and we laughed together about the horrid tasting fowl. And Marc (and I) learned the lesson to avoid roasting one in the future without being put down for trying. When life hands you rubber chicken, make chicken soup!