Ahem.
At least you didn’t ping “the mom”.
My favorite brother was a much better cook than any woman I know.
But if you don’t train your women and let ‘em practice, how are you guys going to blow stuff up, have a shoot, and then drink beer and talk about guns, ammo, and game while they do the cookin’ if you have to be hovering over the pit for hours guarding the pulled venison?
Quite a dilemma...