"Oh I don't mind. I had to give them a similar excuse, actually." Faith's mother was probably worse at cooking than she was, somehow. "He's been trying to help teach me, too. I just don't think I have much of a thing for it. Ask me to slay a demon? I'm on it. Ask me to bake a casserole, and I find every way possible to screw it up." It would be impressive if it weren't so sad.
Faith scrunched up her nose when Ariel said that women measured their waists and thighs here. "Not surprised. God forbid a girl gain a pound. They're scared their husbands will look too much at another woman, I'm sure." She shook her head. "They don't have much else to do other than clean and bake. Or exercise. They do that a lot, too." Faith didn't mind that, though. She exercised plenty to try and burn the excess energy she always had.
"Oh definitely. Ice cream makes all desserts better." She leaned against another counter, not feeling like sitting down herself. "Are you kidding?" Faith asked, arching an eyebrow at her. "How the hell can he see you like that? Is he blind? You're stunning!" Honestly, Faith was a little offended on Ariel's behalf.