Through His Eyes

Today I am linking up with the Red Writing Hood over at the red dress club and responding to the prompt – Lesson Learned

I was a new bride. Barely married for a month – still unpacking boxes and opening gifts when I decided to surprise my husband with a romantic dinner for two. I did not know much about cooking 20 plus years ago (some might say I still do not know much) but like many newlywed innocents, I had a vision of a night of fun, romance, candle light, good food and wowing the socks (and a few other items) off my husband. I planned to use my culinary graces to create a a meal he would always remember and to employ my amazing ambiance skills to lavish an intimate, romantic setting on our dining room card table. All I needed, I thought, was a good recipe, some candles and a negligée, and when he walked in the door of our little apartment, he would feel like a king.

But when my husband walked in the door that night – a kingly romantic feast was not what awaited him. I was wearing the negligée, but the table wasn’t set, the dinner was on fire, the smoke detector was going off, the kitchen was filled with smoke, and I was in tears.
My husband greeted me warmly, opened the windows, took the chicken off the stove and began to set the table. He lit the candles, turned on the stereo and graciously served us burnt chicken, crispy vegetables and lopsided strawberry cake for dessert. We talked, we laughed, and he ate every piece of the burnt, dry, tasteless, crispy chicken, every one of the cold-in-the-center-half-frozen vegetables, and never mentioned even once that the cake was geometrically challenged. The evening ended as I had planned – but we did not get there in the way I had envisioned. It wasn’t my love being poured out on him – but his love poured out on me that redeemed what could have been a quite disastrous evening.
I awoke the next morning and turned on the news to learn that the Detroit Pistons had won the Final Championship game over the Los Angeles Lakers while my husband and I ate our “dinner.” Not only did we not watch the game – but my husband never even mentioned that it was on.
Lesson Learned