My wife thinks I suddenly became interested in cooking after watching random videos online. The truth is, I started because I noticed she had been skipping dinner whenever work got stressful. She would come home, say she wasn't hungry, and then fall asleep with her laptop still open. I didn't know how to talk to her without making her feel like I was monitoring her, so I started learning the dishes she usually orders.
For the last three months, I've been pretending I just “felt like cooking.” She still doesn't know I burned the same dal four times before getting it right, or that I call my mother from the grocery store because I can't remember half the ingredients. Yesterday she told her friend that my cooking phase is the best random thing that has happened this year. I smiled, but I don't think I'll ever tell her the real reason I started.