Life as a MRS: Fire Alarms, Fans, and Why I Need a Toaster
As I mentioned in my last post, I have finally achieved my MRS degree and am learning many new ‘trades’, namely cooking. I have a plethora of cute aprons (thanks to Katie, Chelsey, and Jordan), but unfortunately no one has clicked “buy” on the toaster icon on our Dillard’s registry.
No big deal right? Who needs a toaster anyways. Fancy people bake bread in the oven, (or at least all the moms I know do).
I am married to the LOVE OF MY LIFE, so naturally, I want to welcome him home at night to a delicious, hot meal. Easier said than done.
Last week, as an afterthought, I stuck bread in the oven on “broil” and went to the closet to dig out a pretty napkin to wrap it in. Michael was already seated on the couch (we don’t have a table…another excuse for me not to cook) with two bowls of the garlic soup (due to our lack of understanding that a clove of garlic is only one section-not the whole head).
“Dang it,” I said. “We don’t have a bread basket.” My attempt at classiness failing…Once again.
Michael’s reminder proceeded: “Sweetheart-don’t give yourself such a hard time. It’s really ok.” He is great about giving me grace and reminding me not to put too much pressure on myself, as I really am the queen of making absolute statements about myself… “I am the WORST cook in the entire world!” sort of thing.
Michael knew I wasn’t a gourmet cook before he married me and he isn’t expecting a dramatic life change now. What a great man! Relief. Space for growth.
I sat down on the couch, we blessed the food, started talking about how hilarious the first few weeks of marriage are…and 5 minutes later….the SMOKE ALARM STARTED WAILING as smoke poured from the kitchen into the living room.
We jumped up, he grabbed the pot holders and took the smoldering baking sheet out of the oven and put my 2nd failed cooking attempt on the back porch. The fire alarm proceeded as we opened all the doors and Michael grabbed a fan and set it up next to the oven. I started to beat myself up-I mean seriously, I CANT EVEN MAKE TOAST!? What kind of wife am I?!
But the point was I tried. Really hard. And practice [eventually] makes perfect, or at least edible.
The best part of it all was Michael died laughing about the situation and said, “I have the best wife EVERR”. He gave me grace and I accepted it. We didn’t eat well that night, but our hearts were full of laughter and love in our smoldering kitchen!
If you liked this post, you may also like:
- Life as a MRS : New Last Name, One Big Celebration, Same ‘Ole Me
- Life as a MRS : Day 1 Cooking Disaster
- Open the Door | My Thoughts on Bread & Wine
- A New Family