Cooking in Hyrule
<p>Bess sat on my brightly colored couch with a neon pink throw pillow supporting her back as her eyes floated between my to-scale model flame thrower from <em>Far Cry 6</em> and my seven foot long rainbow Pac-Man wall mural. Intimidated in the way anyone would be when meeting their significant other’s mother for the first time, I smiled anxiously and waited for her to say something. Anything.</p>
<p>Meeting the nervous energy in the room with plenty of her own, my dog jumped up on the couch beside the 96 year old woman and immediately began investigating her wig. I know my dog well enough to know I did not need whatever mischief she was planning but before I could reach her, she plucked Bess’s wig off her head and began tearing around the apartment with it, ending the chase under my bed.</p>
<p>After many whispered curse words aimed at my dog and my partner’s assistance in hefting my king-size mattress, the wig was secure, albeit a bit damp from dog slobber. I made my way back to the living room and handed Bess her hair without making eye contact.</p>
<p><a href="https://cl-craven.medium.com/cooking-in-hyrule-28649a55a086"><strong>Click Here</strong></a></p>