I’ve been married to the same girl for thirty four years. I remember shortly after we met, she invited me over for lunch. It was an uncomplicated menu. Grilled cheese and chicken noodle soup. Undoubtedly chosen for its universal appeal. I wasn’t a fan of grilled cheese in those days, my grandson has changed my mind since he came along, but I wasn’t about to tell her. She seemed a little nervous. I didn’t know if she lacked confidence in her culinary skills or if it was my presence.
I wish I could tell you, it was my overwhelming charm and good looks, that had her shaking in her apron. But, the truth is much more reality based. She simply hadn’t mastered stove top brilliance. How she got the grilled cheese to burn and the chicken soup to boil over at the exact same moment is an accomplishment she’s never duplicated. She was way to cute for me to be concerned by potentially harmful nutrition.
She quickly turned off the fire under the soup. With smoke rising from the burning grilled cheese, she grabbed a plastic bowl and poured soup in it. In her haste to tend to Mr. Cheese, she set the plastic bowl of soup on the hot burner. Before she could get the sandwich, out of the skillet, the soup was running out of the melting bowl. Being a male, a Marine, and masculine I applied my ‘in the heat of battle’ training to gain control of the situation.
She was embarrassed to say the least. Comedy, being one of my many attributes, I whipped up some laughter to save the bacon, so to speak. Some guys would have interpreted the whole experience in a negative palate. It would have been too eventful for any traditional momma’s boy to handle. Weaker men would have bolted out the door. Visualizing a life of potted meat and fast food. Not me. I was the Adventurer. The Thrill Seeker. And, the Risk-Taker. I wasn’t about to give up on potential marital bliss over blacken cheese and runaway bouillon.
Once we secured our safety, we sat down, to dine on the delicacies earned through life-threatening recipe. I tell you, without hesitation, it remains the most memorable meal of my life. There isn’t much today that Tina can’t cook. And, cook well. She was only eighteen when we shared this intimate feast. I knew, back then, she was special. I just knew she had potential. My gamble paid off, big time.
She must have held me in high esteem too. Maybe she was enthroned with me back in the day. I mean, if she didn’t think I was god like, she would never have offered me burnt sacrifices, right? I know she has a much less celestial view of me now. I haven’t had scorched vittles in a long time.
The Life of a King? All depends on how you look at it.
What keeps your relationship going?