Every Saturday I am not in-charge of the kitchen. I don't have time to do so as I'm busy working. I only have a few minute to spare to gulp down my dinner and leave the house with my precious screeching at my heels yelling along the way that we're late... we're late... and ended up all of us were waiting for her while she grappled along with her bag, books, shoes and comb in both hands. 
Hubby has very little understanding regarding the quantity of food. That's one large bowl where 4 person can eat and I was served with such 'generous' serving that I felt so tired having to eat them all. We were perspiring right through the scalp. Meatballs are my favourite but funnily after swallowing one after another, there's still a lot of balls in the bowl. The noodles didn't even go down a centimetre. 
After 10 minutes, it's still that much. And I was starting to hyperventilate. After 15 minutes, I pulled up a pair of white knickers to show that I have surrendered. I can't finish it. Whenever I cook, everything is just nice. There will never be extra but whenever hubby cooks, it's always overflowing. You can have 2 - 3 servings and yet there's still a lot more in the pot for the next day. See how different we are...
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