I finally cooked. Sorry you slept through it.
A female listener struck a cord with me the other day as we were pouncing on a husband that insisted his working wife's job should ALSO be to cook.
She said that she also has a full-time job and kids, but she does the cooking exclusively to express her appreciation to her family. In other words, she doesn't look at it as a job that she's hoping to pawn off occasionally on her husband; she ENJOYS going the extra mile for her family.
That made me want to cook.
And I went full-out. No pearls and apron Ala June Cleaver, but I prepared a Greek rub from scratch and massaged that raw chicken between its skin and meat as if I was working for tips.
And I HATE touching raw chicken.
But I love my family... that was my mantra, anyway, during the rubdown. Even made mashed potatoes without a recipe - a scary thought for someone that doesn't cook, but I was determined to show full family love.
Three hours later (because a cleaning freak skeeves out handling raw chicken and needs time to over-Lysol everything), dinner was served. Everything looked so good, angels should have been singing as I opened the oven door. I couldn't wait to perform my "wifey duties" and serve my husband and son.
We sat down, and I intently watched Ethan take a bite. Nothin.
I turned to my son, who will usually put anything in his mouth, and saw a fistful of potatoes smeared on his face. He found a new toy.
I looked at my husband again, who is still silent, but eating. I couldn't take it anymore ....."Well?!!! Say something!!!!"
"If I'm not talking, it's because I'm eating. Take it as a good sign." Hmm. Wise words. Success.
Then I look at my son, and see this:
Almost looks like he's pretending to sleep to avoid eating anymore. This is not helping mommy's cooking reputation. Maybe I took too long to serve dinner (damn you, Lysol).
I thought the dinner was delicious, if I may say so. I was even surprised. We'll see how soon my next "family appreciation" cook-fest happens. In the meantime, I hope the family appreciates left-overs...