One of the most amazing things about our marriage is we've found that great middle ground that allows us to laugh at each other and recognize that some things would just be silly to fight over. Potato skins, for one, are definitely something to laugh about.
Sunday night, I wanted to cook dinner and homemade hamburgers sounded like a wonderful idea. Alfred offered to actually go into town to buy something because he knows how miserable I've been feeling lately, but I was pretty determined to make hamburgers. You could see the relief in his eyes.
I defrosted the meat, placed it in a bowl, seasoned it and left it on the counter as I turned around to start heating the oil for the french fries. Being the sweetheart he is, Alfred had offered to peel and slice the potatoes soon after that.
A few moments later, I turned around for my meat bowl to make the patties but to my dismay, it wasn't there. I checked our counter space, I stared into the refrigerator, I re-checked the counter. Finally, I simply just stood there hands on my back with my 39 weeks pregnant belly heaving in bewilderment as to where in the world my hamburger meat could have went. Alfred notices (I mean, it's hard not to notice a heaving pregnant belly) and asks what's going on. I walk up to him to explain while he's peeling the potatoes...
directly into my meat bowl.
He had no idea, he just assumed it was empty while watching television and I had put it in front of him for that very reason - to peel the potatoes in. I couldn't control the laughter, especially as he sadly said,
"Babe, would it just be better if I sat down instead?"
It's not very often when a grown man feels defeated by potato skins and that fact alone just made it all the more amazing.
And for the record, they were probably the best damn hamburgers I've ever made.
3 comments:
eh, just added some earthy flavor, ha ha ha
Well, I have to admit it was kind of fun not knowing when I took a bite if I was going to get a potato skin or not.
That's too damn funny.
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