And One Last Thing...
“Instead of just spotting that the other person was awake or doing something stupid and life-threatening and coming on over, we actually agreed to meet at an agreed-upon time and make a meal that wasn’t improvised.I struggled with what I should cook for Monroe. He agreed to provide sides and dessert and do the dishes if I brought the main dish. As egalitarian as that sounded, I had a hard time returning to that homemaker role. For one thing, I didn’t want him to think I was trying to impress him..., some desperate attempt to lure a man through his stomach. And for another, I didn’t want him to expect me to present him with spectacular meals on a regular basis. I’d already had a man who learned to take my efforts for granted and I wasn’t interested in another one.At the same time, it went against all of Mama’s genes to serve a friend some Velveeta-based slop. So I raided my pantry and found the ingredients for chicken and dumplings. Informal, unsexy, and perfect for the weather, which was finally getting frosty heading into late September.Unfortunately, Monroe’s idea of side dishes was heated chili beans and raw baby carrots.MoreLess
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