So there I was sitting at the kitchen counter with a cup of tea at the ready, staring at a grocery list. Pen poised, I asked my husband what he would like me to have for him at the house while I was gone for the weekend. Quick as a flash he countered, “How ’bout a couple of 25-year-olds?”
Almost as quickly I crossed “beef tenderloin” off that list and substituted “chicken necks!”
Beware all you young (under 50 years), married women out there: this is the sort of repartee you can expect as you approach your marital dotage. It’s me who should have known better.
Once a year in the autumn the women in my family head for the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia for what we fondly call a “Girls’ Weekend.” After I showed him my altered grocery list, he said of course he was just kidding – and then tried to convince me that it was only fair that he have a girls’ weekend as well.
Conversely, also on the subject of my three-day-getaway, Jim has been known to remark that he wouldn’t go on a trip with “that bunch of women” for absolutely anything. (I always remind him that he’s never been asked!)
On the subject of sustenance as I wile away a weekend, I have this 1950’s urge to become “Wife of the Year” in all circumstances, so I used to diligently prepare, wrap, label and freeze tasty tidbits for his dining pleasure. There was always something – generally homemade – on hand to “heat and eat.”
For some strange reason he has deemed micro-waving as “too much trouble,” and any longer preparation as “unacceptable.” This from the man who – when he has a mind to – concocts some of the best meals I’ve ever eaten. (His steaks will bring you to your knees).
But somehow, if I’m away – which isn’t all that often – he eats quickly and simply or goes out. A few of his favorite fast food emporiums are just down the road, so he has a lot of options, especially if he chooses – as he often does – to eat both lunch and dinner out.
This man, bless his heart, will eat the same brand of cereal, topped with bananas, every single solitary morning, unless I make him a cooked breakfast. Bacon and eggs are always on hand, but they are never touched when I’m away. I’ve stocked the meat drawer with his favorite deli treats, but at midday he generally opts for Filet of PBJ.
So even though I end up leaving him with limited supplies, I can’t seem to get over the compulsion to ask what he’d like. After this last response though, that request is now surely a thing of the past. (But alas, knowing me, probably not).
Ah well, I got the Special K Almond, bananas, milk, jars of crunchy peanut butter and blueberry jelly and a loaf of bread. That left the cupboard mighty bare, so I did what mother always did when she needed a ready meal: baked a half ham. What do you want to bet when I get home Sunday night, that will have been mightily hacked upon and I’ll be the one having to settle for chicken necks?