If my wife is cooking in the kitchen, I have to keep her company.
Her excuse is that she's afraid the stove might suddenly explode, the propane might run out without warning, or a gecko might show up.
As an obedient husband, I went along with it at first. But after a while, I started to wonder.
Is my wife really that scared, or is she just looking for extra chores to give me?
Once upon a time, I really did sit in the kitchen and keep my wife company while she cooked. I listened to her chat, even though she was talking about celebrities I'd never heard of.
The next day, I got promoted. I went from conversation partner to vegetable picker.
I didn't mind.
The day after that, I got promoted again. From vegetable picker to dishwasher for the cooking utensils.
I didn't mind that either.
The following day, once again, I got promoted. From kitchenware washer to grocery shopper.
What was my wife doing?
Same as always.
Busy.
Busy scrolling through Facebook, TikTok, Instagram, back to Facebook, WhatsApp stories, then watching Reels until she forgot what she was going to cook.
When I asked her, the reason was simple.
"I'm looking for a recipe."
But... why did looking for a recipe turn into watching a Korean drama?
This morning, I was assigned to buy celery leaves.
As far as my wife was concerned, vegetable soup wasn't complete without celery leaves.
The reason was simple too.
"It tastes different."
But... I knew the real reason. My wife wanted to scroll through social media without me bothering her. According to her, there was some hot gossip going around that she needed for her gossip session.
And she had to gossip with me, of all people!
So all I could do was ramble on about nothing.
My social media feed was nothing but politics, wildfire zones, and schoolchildren getting poisoned.
"Just buy two thousand rupiah's worth, okay?" my wife instructed me, and I repeated it over and over the entire way there.
When I arrived at the vegetable stand, I ran into Mas Wahyu.
Yes, Mas Wahyu, my next-door neighbor, whose head my wife wanted to turn into a lice farm.
"Hey, bro!" Mas Wahyu greeted me first. The muscular guy was picking through some carrots. "What's up?"
I scratched my head, which had suddenly started itching.
"Yeah, Mas. I've been promoted." I smiled politely.
Then I told the vegetable seller why I'd wandered over to his stand in the first place.
"Seriously? You're only buying two thousand rupiah's worth?" Mas Wahyu jumped in quickly. "That's barely anything. Are you sure it's two thousand? Maybe you misheard her. Twenty thousand, perhaps?"
I suddenly got confused.
The memory in my head vanished just as suddenly.
Can't blame me. I'd never gone grocery shopping this early in the morning.
"Is that right, Mas?" I asked uncertainly, but Mas Wahyu nodded firmly.
Had my wife told me to buy two thousand or twenty thousand rupiah's worth?
I wanted to call my wife, but my phone was charging in the bedroom.
Turning around to go back and make sure wasn't an option either.
Arghhh!
I'd forgotten.
"Twenty thousand, then, sir!" I finally called out to the vegetable seller.
I felt relieved.
At least for now.
"See you, Mas." I said goodbye to Mas Wahyu after finishing the transaction with the vegetable seller.
Mas Wahyu only nodded, but he was grinning behind his hand.
When I got home, my wife, who was still cooking, was instantly shocked to see me carrying an entire plastic bag full of celery leaves.
"Is that all celery leaves, Angah?" my wife asked in disbelief.
I nodded proudly.
It felt good to help my wife out first thing in the morning.
But... it looked like my happiness wasn't going to last long. My wife's face was already scrunched up in a pout.
She stayed silent the entire time she cooked.
I could feel the atmosphere in the house turning terrifying.
It was starting to feel like a cemetery.
If a cemetery smelled like frangipani flowers, my house smelled like celery leaves instead.
I decided to get ready for work. There was no way I was going to ask my wife what was wrong. I'd only get blasted by a human-shaped dragon.
Yikes!
At fifteen minutes before seven, I went into the kitchen.
The dining table was covered with dishes made from celery leaves.
EVERYTHING WAS CELERY LEAVES!!
A raw celery-leaf platter, stir-fried celery leaves, and balado fried eggs with celery leaves. Even the sweet tea had celery leaves in it.
"Everything's celery leaves, babe?" I asked jokingly.
"I TOLD YOU TO BUY TWO THOUSAND RUPIAH'S WORTH, ANGAH! WHY DID YOU BUY ENOUGH CELERY LEAVES TO CLEAR-CUT AN ENTIRE FARM?!"
I swallowed hard, then slapped my forehead.
In the end, I ate in silence, but inside I was throwing a fit and dying to yell at Mas Wahyu.
"You cursed neighbor, you celery-leaf mastermind!"