Every year for Mother's Day, all I want is for Tim to cook me dinner.
And every year, something else comes up.
Plans change, life happens, and after 12 years of marriage, (well, I should only count the 8 years I have been a mother) Tim has always gotten off the hook for one reason or another.
This year, I got my wish.
Now one might guess that a person such as my husband may not be capable of "cooking" and that I should prepare myself for something frozen or some sort of pasta, undercooked and sticky.
I did. That's why I requested a No Pasta rule to begin this tradition. And this WILL be a tradition. Tim made the most delicious, moist and wonderful meal I've had in a long time and I'm ashamed to say I was surprised it came out so well. He cooked marinated chicken out on the grill. And since the last time we used that thing was years ago when we found a family of cute little mice in it, the memory of grilled deliciousness was long gone.
AND Italian bread. AND a salad. AND he set the table AND cleared it AND he did the dishes.
Now many people may be lucky enough to think "What's the big deal? My husband cooks all the time. Grilling isn't really cooking anyway." But this particular husband has been known to have to ask what kind of kitchenware to use to cook Kraft macaroni and cheese in and to get out a 2 quart saucepan to fry up some eggs. So to be simply impressed with his accomplishment is an understatement.
I savored this meal like it was my last.
Which it won't be. Because I've upped the stakes. Every year he has to top the last. His only condition was that on Father's Day, I change the oil in the car.
Leave the kids with Daddy for what will surely turn into hours of trying to decide which magazine to peruse while the nice mechanic fits us in his busy schedule?
Sound like a plan.