A Culinary Confession

My kitchen is my “killer kit,” or so my husband thinks,
as warily he eyes his meal––main course, dessert and drinks.
He says he doesn’t blame me for my culinary lack,
because he didn’t marry me because I have the knack
to fry and broil and grill and roast
or even fail to burn the toast.
Yet I see him eye the knishes,
turkeys, pies and other dishes
served up by the other wives
who, wielding pans and spoons and knives
create dishes edible
as well as being bedable.
While I, though skillful in the sack,
their kitchen talents sadly lack.
So for years, we’ve had to make out
mainly on phone-in or take out!

Prompt words for the Three Things Challenge 375 are: killer, kit, kitchen. (Image created with help from AI)