A fun thing about my wife is that almost everything revolves around food. And drink, truth be told. We think about what we want to do on a weekend day like today and all of our plans center around the places of consumption. "We can go to the Sterling Fair, which has lots of food, or we can go to Hyland Orchards to pick apples and have some of their beer, or we can stay home and grill something." This is a real excerpt. Pretty much. Or at least how I remember it.
Will we have heart attacks in 5 years? Maybe. Do we both weigh more than we should? Indeed. But we are happy.
The other day we had a 'butter red alert,' because we were down to just one stick in the house. So I had to run to the supermarket and get some more.
But while it may seem that all we do is sit around and eat sticks of butter and drink beer, and while that kind of existence might be a good one until the MI strikes, it's not so. She likes to make foods that make me happy.
She can make brownies from what I call 'trace elements.' In fifteen minutes she can have a pan of brownies in the oven from only sugar, butter (can't make emergency brownies without butter, hence the butter red alerts), flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and maybe something else I don't see because she's too fast. Trace elements, though, no Betty Crocker boxes here. The brownies are fabulous, by the way.
While we need to dial this back or become hosts to tapeworms to keep from needing belly-bands, it's tough not to appreciate her good (taste-wise, if not health-wise) intentions, and her skill.
When I was on the fence about proprosing to my now wife, a crazy guy once told me something. He said, "Guys only want two things, to be fed and f'd. I'm assuming everything's OK in the bedroom and I she the things she cooks for you, so what's the problem?" Not eloquent, but honestly, his comments were probably what pushed me over the line and got me to go buy a ring.
America's full of people who are inactive and consumed by shoveling food into their faces. We don't want to be statistics. We want to be healthy and active to keep up with you baby girl as she grows up, and we want to keep her from joining the ranks of the obese. While we're working on it, I'll just make sure we have at least two sticks of butter and cocoa powder in the house.
The other day we had a 'butter red alert,' because we were down to just one stick in the house. So I had to run to the supermarket and get some more.
But while it may seem that all we do is sit around and eat sticks of butter and drink beer, and while that kind of existence might be a good one until the MI strikes, it's not so. She likes to make foods that make me happy.
She can make brownies from what I call 'trace elements.' In fifteen minutes she can have a pan of brownies in the oven from only sugar, butter (can't make emergency brownies without butter, hence the butter red alerts), flour, cocoa, baking powder, baking soda, and maybe something else I don't see because she's too fast. Trace elements, though, no Betty Crocker boxes here. The brownies are fabulous, by the way.
While we need to dial this back or become hosts to tapeworms to keep from needing belly-bands, it's tough not to appreciate her good (taste-wise, if not health-wise) intentions, and her skill.
When I was on the fence about proprosing to my now wife, a crazy guy once told me something. He said, "Guys only want two things, to be fed and f'd. I'm assuming everything's OK in the bedroom and I she the things she cooks for you, so what's the problem?" Not eloquent, but honestly, his comments were probably what pushed me over the line and got me to go buy a ring.
America's full of people who are inactive and consumed by shoveling food into their faces. We don't want to be statistics. We want to be healthy and active to keep up with you baby girl as she grows up, and we want to keep her from joining the ranks of the obese. While we're working on it, I'll just make sure we have at least two sticks of butter and cocoa powder in the house.
