I guess I'm okay with cooking...I mean, I used to cook sometimes while I was staying with some friend, and I haven't poisoned myself yet on the road. I must be doing something right. If you've got cookbooks, I should be able to manage fairly alright.

[In his head, the situation adds up fairly quickly. He feels kind of bad for the man when he considers living with a house full of kids and being unable to cook well, but at least it seems they manage well enough.]

Okay, easy enough then. Could you give me the address there?