I hope that what I am about to say will not undo all three waves of feminism (or are we up to the fourth wave now? I cancelled my subscription to Bust magazine, so I have lost count!). For the second time in our 8 1/2 years together, my husband cooked dinner for me! Now, before any Second Wavers try and have a dialogue with me about how I must learn to subvert the dominant paradigm and stop spending most of my life in the kitchen, cooking for my white, male husband, I must point out 2 facts: 1) I love cooking 2) I can count on one hand the number of times I have made our bed, and I don't think I have ever even touched the Swiffer. Hubby takes care of those tasks, so we have a fair distribution of labor. However, I'm not gonna lie. When I hear rumors about a wife who has NEVER (and I mean NEVER) cooked a dinner for her husband, unless she has no hands, I assume that she is a bad wife. I know that not every woman has the time or desire to feed their men as extravagantly as I do but NEVER?!? Pathetic! Oh dear, I hear a NOW representative knocking at my door, surely to take my feminist card back! ;-)
Hubby made me his famous Kraut Dogs. I have witnessed him make them for himself, on rare and random days when there weren't enough leftovers to eat for lunch. I always scoffed at them. Who would eat something like stinky old sauerkraut? As I discovered a few weeks back, turns out that I, in fact, happen to love stinky old sauerkraut! So, I got to have my first taste of Hubby's Famous Kraut Dogs.
|Here's my husband and me having dinner last night!|
When I last ate sauerkraut, it was fancy homemade sauerkraut, on a fancy homemade sausage, topped with fancy homemade mustard. This time, we were keeping it real! Smart Dogs, Trader Joe's yellow mustard and tragic canned sauerkraut. It was not fancy nor homemade, but it was still delicious! Hubby does make a damn good Kraut Dog! And as I sat there, eating my sauerkraut, with mustard and a side of pickles, all I could think was If They Could See Me Now! They'd Never Believe It!
|Here's me after dinner, even though I didn't eat any fancy chow or drink any fancy wine!|
And Hubby.... he really has conquered his 40 years of mustard hating! He hated it, now suddenly, because he got over himself, he likes it! He admits that he doesn't crave it yet, but he is confident that he will never again have to use one of his most commonly uttered phrases: "Please leave the mustard off of that."
Finally, I went back to Slimmons last night, and Richard Simmons greeted me with a "Hi, Darling!" and not, as I feared, a "Who is this little fat girl?!?" Even after my overly indulgent weekend in the Garden State, I am apparently no worse for the wear.