My husband? Oh – he makes magical meatloaf

I’m just going to take a few minutes here and brag on my husband, because not every post here has to be some emotional uncovering from the depths of my…wherever. When I started keeping a blog in 2006 it was seriously to chronical my life. Now it’s for that and because I’m an attention wh**e as my blogosphere bestie calls it.

Sunday we were all freaking stressed. Between Baldy’s pending neuro appointment, my pending cardiology appointment and the week of hell stemming from my 16 year old tornado, our house was just d.o.n.e being a family. No one was on speaking terms. And I really didn’t care for a minute.

Anyway, we hadn’t set down to a meal together without a fight in a good week and somehow the God’s spoke to Baldy and convinced him to be Martin Stewart and pull our family back together.

So I started smelling something in the kitchen but ignored it except for the occasional “when will dinner be ready?”

I think once I said “need me to help” – which I always say while sinking into the comfy couch begging inside that he say “no” because me in the kitchen? Mess.

I finally rounded the corner to catch this kind of kitchen action that made me giggle and think of the cafeteria lady back in Elementary school.

Bald Lover

And while I know you can’t tell what the heck is going on in this picture, the man is seriously stacking my potatoes on top of my meatloaf. Because we are so damn spoiled by his cooking that we can’t, you know, eat our food in separate bites.
When he was finished assembling the meal we were presented with Meatloaf, mashed potatoes and mushroom gravy layered goodness, with a side of fresh green beans and told to sit, and eat.

And we did. It caused us to shake our head at him together, and giggle a little, and within a few minutes, we were all enjoying our dinner without worrying, without fighting, without the awkward silence that has fallen on us a few times over the past week.
Of course the tower of goodness eventually falls to a million pieces while you eat it, but for some reason it was the perfect thing to get our family re-connected.
The girls even mostly ate their mushrooms without a whole lot of begging, twisting of their faces or complaining.

And ever since? There has been no fighting, no tears, and very minor health related stress. I’m calling it the magic meatloaf.
Oh, and just to brag a little more on my husband? He didn’t leave me a mess to clean up, he cleaned it, and then I caught him CLEANING THE HOOD VENT. Not even kidding.


3 responses to “My husband? Oh – he makes magical meatloaf

  1. is that all i have to do? make meatloaf?

    that photo of him in the kitchen, stacking plates? comedy GOLD. 🙂

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