I cannot begin to tell you how excited my other half and I were that we were finally going to have a Valentine’s Day where neither of us had to work. We had no engagements of any kind. The first Valentine’s Day that has happened, not since we got married, but since we started dating.
With that, we decided that it was going to be a quiet day and evening. We were going to cook dinner together. That was the plan. That was the only plan. Dinner. Cooking dinner together, because, apparently, the couple that cooks together stays together, right?
Nature happened. The sniffles hit me about Tuesday. Four days later, my nose is raw. I’m pretty sure that I have a permanent cloud of Vick’s following me around the house, along with a trail of tissues and empty blister packs where the cold medicine used to be. She even accused me of getting sick “on purpose,” playfully, but an accusation nonetheless.
But, let’s get back to this thing about how the couple that cooks together stays together. Before we do that, a little background on me and the kitchen…
The short version is that I do not like for people to get in my way while I’m in the kitchen.
The long version is that I have my ways of doing things, especially, maybe only, in the kitchen. There is a system in my head while I’m getting things together and ready to cook, a mise en place, so to speak. It was the same way when I worked in kitchens, especially the last kitchen I worked where there was some latitude in how my station was set up and how I could run it. I rarely, if ever, ask for help, because if I have to ask for help, I have to explain where the help is needed, and if I have to explain where the help is needed, I may as well take that time I used explaining and just do what I needed help with anyway. Impatience abounds, I become a raging asshole, and nothing good comes out of the situation.
Back to “the couple that cooks together stays together.”
We were going to cook dinner together. I had a menu all worked out. Two different entrées, because, well, I wanted a steak and she, strangely enough, does not eat steak (I know. I know. I’m wondering the same thing.), bacon wrapped scallops, some delicious cheesy mashed taters, and some kind of vegetable, because every meal needs a vegetable, so they say.
I had the plan set in my mind in how everything was going to be prepared so it all timed out well.
Then, the sniffles happened, and my love said this morning, after going and getting us breakfast, that we did not have to cook a nice meal tonight because I can’t taste anything. She loves me, but I think it was after she asked me if I enjoyed the breakfast bagel she got for me. I told her, I guess it’s pretty good. I can’t taste it, though. So, she gave me a rain check on cooking the meal. She’s pretty swell.
However, I cannot help but feel like we avoided disaster tonight. We had take-out, and that works. We avoided the storm that would have been me being jumpy in the kitchen, her wanting to help, and having my system interrupted and thus (in my mind), the meal ruined.
All-in-all, it has been a quiet day and evening, which is what we both wanted. Snow is falling and it looks nice out the window. So, sniffles and kleenexes aside, it has been a pretty swell Valentine’s Day.