One thing you should know about me is that I don’t use warm milk to make anything. Instant oatmeal? Hot water. Hot cocoa? Hot water. It’s water, it’s always water, it will never be milk. Who has time to warm milk when water is so damn cheap and easy?

I bought this color-changing hot cocoa mix for the kids this weekend, and the directions called for warm milk. Normally I would ignore directions like that, but the color-changing aspect gave me pause: what if it needs lactose in order to change color?

“How do I even warm milk?!” I called to my husband from the kitchen. He was sitting on the couch looking at his phone, enjoying a well-deserved break after removing the air conditioning units from the windows.

“Put it in the microwave,” he said, not looking up from his phone.

“But like… how long? In what container?” I responded as I struggled to find a microwave-safe container.

“Just heat it and stir it until it seems warm,” he said, now looking up from the couch with some concern. “Use the big Pyrex measuring glass.”

“But how can I tell if it’s warm? And what power level should I use?” I asked, spilling milk all over the Pyrex glass and countertop. “How long does it take to burn?”

“Just… ” my husband appeared at my side. “I’ll do it.”

Men aren’t the only ones who can weaponize incompetence.