So its become a tradition for me to take the wheel of Take Back the Kitchen on Mother’s Day, giving Alma both a day off and a well-deserved tribute. Well, I have a bit of writer’s block and performance anxiety as the deadline approaches, so I am going freestyle from here….
The hardest day of the (my) year? Its a tie, between Mother’s Day and her birthday.
Never do I want more to do everything right, and yet nearly always stumble in a way that makes it seem as though I don’t always listen to what my lovely wife says. She would never eat full fat yogurt, not even as part of a Mothers Day breakfast in bed, not even if thoughtfully topped off with an organic strawberry. Don’t I remember that last week
she was lamenting how she accidentally bought whole milk yogurt instead of fat free at the store and had to give it away to a friend? (I nod and tell her I do recall that conversation, but I really don’t) “Who would eat something with as much fat as ice cream, but is not ice cream?” Not Alma. My bad.
On the other hand, she was touched when she awoke to a decorative platter containing her thyroid pill and a glass of water. Alma cannot have her coffee until 30 minutes after ingesting the pill, and this little touch went a long way, and may have even overwhelmed the later yogurt incident.
5:15 PM as I write this, and Alma has not cooked a thing all day, which is rare. As you all know she spends a good deal of her time taking care of the family’s diet, dealing with some very picky eaters, making sure everyone gets enough fruits and vegetables, sneaking wheat germ and other foreign substances into pancakes, updating our own “Dirty Dozen” list of what must be organic, debating me in the aisles of Whole Foods, often by cell phone, over milk vs antibiotic and hormone free milk vs. organic milk. I think we are now eating grass-fed broccoli.
In any case, everyone needs a break, and today I handled breakfast, and helped the kids assemble a special one for Alma. It was Tex-Mex (out) for a very late lunch, and looking like a cereal and left-overs for dinner. I caught Alma eating Nutella off a spoon, which admittedly I had loaded for myself before being distracted and leaving it on the kitchen island. Happy Mother’s Day, Alma!!!!! (the punctuation is mocking; why do women use so many exclamation points?)
Nutella on Spoon
1 hidden jar of Nutella
Sneak into kitchen when assured wife is upstairs and kids are not around. Scoop to taste. Place used spoon in sink as if you are not about to need it again in 5 minutes.