Nothing hurts my feelings more than when I bake something for you and you don't compliment me on it. I'm always baking you cakes, pies, cookies, pastries, and all sorts of tasty things because a) I know I'm good at it and b) I like doing nice things for you.
And I know it's not because the food is bad. Everyone else compliments me on it, and I've had enough of it myself to know that I bake a damn good red velvet cake! I make everything from scratch, no mixes or pre-made frostings. Sometimes I even dress up all sexy when I'm baking, sort of pin-up retro housewife with pearls and high heels. Even then, you just walk into the kitchen and say, "Oh hey, cake." You cut yourself a fat slice, put it on a plate, and walk away to the living room to eat it. Every. Time.
Just once, I wish you'd say, "That was so sweet of you to do this, honey!" or "This is so good!" or "You did a great job." or even "I love it when you bake me stuff."
Seriously, it makes me want to cry sometimes.