I chopped apples, put them into a dish. Flicked

I chopped apples, put them into a dish. Flicked off some sliced slug (organic!), slapped on some pastry. In the oven for a random amount of minutes. I am a Domestic bloody Goddess

but my husband doesn't appreciate me. He thinks I'm encroaching on his Mr. Mom turf. "Let's have an Iron Chef showdown for domestic supremacy, NOW," he said. Round 1: Gastropods.

Laundry. Homework. GO!" I threw some butter & garlic in a pan, tossed the whites into a spin cycle, and looked over Billy's shoulder at his algebra. The domestic supremacy showdown

SMACKDOWN! "X = 2.9," I said smugly, then looked over at my wife,challenging her with my eyes. This domestic supremecy showdown smackdown was about to get REAL! She snapped her

neck trying to come up with a witty rejoinder, and just like that, we were off to the hospital. I guess we'll have to wait until next week to see who's the better math whiz. When

they got to the ER, the doc declared it was only a flesh wound. "Tis only a scratch," he declared. "A scratch? My arm's off!" I protested. "No it's not!" replied the doctor. "Go

see Monty Python's Search For The Holy Grail and you'll understand my joke." Said the ER doc. My arm stump was bleeding. I said, "Could you at least just do some medical stuff

ication for incurable conditions. It's pointless to staunch that. Why don't you just shove your stump through this medical smock & I'll make you the focus of a Vesuvius diorama

which will linger on for a thousand years,your stunned flesh petrifying into a skeletal posture of horror to confound our ancestors with this singular display of utter destruction