When I married my husband, he really couldn't cook anything. And I was happy to do all of the cooking, so he didn't have to...until I got a job that required me to travel sometimes, and he was responsible for feeding himself and the kids. He did what most men do - solve the problem. He learned how to make one thing (taco salad) and anytime I was unavailable they ate taco salad for every meal. The kids never complained, but I always noticed that by the time I got home from a 3 day conference, they would gobble up anything I cooked.
Through the years, he has eventually expanded his repertoire to include grilled cheese and french toast. And actually, he makes it so much better than I do. So this morning, when we got up, he said, "You make the coffee and I'll make the french toast." It was nice to sit and share breakfast, with the kids still sleeping. Later, as we sipped our coffee, Hillary wandered in...hair disheveled and eyes puffy. "What's for breakfast?" she asked. Yancy said, "French toast." Then he winked at me because she was looking around the kitchen at the bag of bread and the empty skillet. She looked at him with her big brown eyes...and he said, "How many pieces do you want?" "Three!" she replied with a big smile.
I wonder if french toast will be the special thing Hillary remembers her dad cooking for her. My dad cooked a lot when I was young, but his specialty was chocolate gravy and biscuits. He only made it every now and then...like on snow days or holidays...so it was a special treat. Even after I grew up, I would request this breakfast anytime I visited back home. No one could make it quite like him. No one ever will.
In all the years that make up a childhood or a lifetime, its these little things that make a life sweet.
1 comment:
We always loved it when my dad cooked. He did stuff like turtle soup or frog legs. It was always good. But mom was the every day cook, and we never went hungry. We had a big garden and always had beef or chicken and lots of veggies. MOM
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