People Beg Me to Not Cook

When I want to cook others beg me to stop. I once baked a cake that when rolled could hop. We made it into balls and watched it go down the walk. Some of it was whisked away by a determined chicken hawk. Hope that bird does not die, my sister said. She loves to cook, can make pies, puddings and bread. If I try to make a hamburger, it scorches black in the pan. I am the worst cook in Kansas, you can ask my man. Out of desperation he learned to cook. He is a really great chef, can maneuver the nook. Which is to say the kitchen which I begged the builder to leave out. That put his knickers in a knot, the man swore and gave a shout. She does not cook, she is really bad at it, my husband explained. I was going to try cookies yesterday, but everyone complained. They have cleaned up my messes, and none wanted to do it again. Luckily I live close to my baking, cooking sister; she is my twin.