My Husby loves to cook.
And he's good at it.
His family is very, very appreciative.
Well, his wife is.
Moving on . . .
He started out cooking breakfasts.
Mostly out of necessity.
I seldom got back from my run in time
to achieve 'hot and wholesome'.
Mostly, my family got “cold and
fast'.
I don't have to tell you which my Husby
prefers.
As the years went by, his breakfasts
got more elaborate.
And delicious.
And his family scurried to the
breakfast table, anxious to sample that day's offerings.
Not.
Grant usually had to call two or three
times before anyone showed their sleepy face in the dining room.
None of them wanted to risk getting
there too early or they would be immediately enlisted in 'table
setting' duty.
He started calling them earlier and
earlier in an attempt to get them there before the food got cold.
Finally, it became common for him to
start calling when things started cooking.
A good fifteen minutes before any food
approached the table.
But what was the custom in our house,
wasn't necessarily the custom in others.
Something we learned by experience.
A young woman was staying a few weeks
with our family.
It was her first morning.
Grant walked into the kitchen and
started adding ingredients to pans.
The he hollered,” Breakfast!”
And went back to stirring.
I had finished my run and walked into
the kitchen to set the table.
There was our little house guest,
looking very small and lonely at the large, empty table.
All by herself.
She looked at me. “I thought Mr.
Tolley called us for breakfast,” she said in a tiny voice.
I laughed. “Maybe I should explain a
few things,” I said.
Sadly, she learned to show up with the
rest of the kids.
Maybe learning about other cultures
first-hand isn't always a good thing.
I THINK I remember that...
ReplyDeleteGets to the point where Dad calls for breakfast, and we know we've got a good ten-fifteen minutes before chow time...
You know your dad!
DeleteYa. You don't want to be rude as a guest and then get all confused lol
ReplyDeletePoor little girl. She looked so small. And confused . . .
DeleteA good story to talk home. Love to know the twist she put on it.
ReplyDeleteHuh. Now you mention it, so would I . . .
DeleteI wish Brian was more like Grant! We usually only get fast and cold at our house. :)
ReplyDeleteAlthough... he did make us breakfast for dinner tonight. I am grateful for that much!
I LOVE breakfast for dinner! And pizza for breakfast. Okay. Weird. I know.
DeleteWow. Breakfast is the most important meal of the day for me. You don't even have to call me! In fact, my nose sends my brain an internal text message and I am up out of bed headed for the smell, stopping briefly to wash my mug and hands first.
ReplyDeleteGood hubby you have!
You're welcome any time. He would be so happy to have someone show up!
DeleteOh, that is so cute, your husby sounds sweet, I bet your children remember this when they grew up:)
ReplyDeleteOh, they definitely do. And they still have to be called . . . and called . . . to meals.
Delete