You know, this week kind of sucked. It was back to school, which, after a few weeks off, meant back to homeschool, and the transition was less than smooth. I came back to the learning table ready to go, with high expectations. Eion came back ready to be defiant at every turn and generally make me pull my hair out. His sassy behavior continued after school was done, culminating yesterday with him making his sister cry by ripping up the picture she gave him for Christmas.
And then the boy and I had some words. We won't go into them all here but a few had four letters.
Needless to say, I was not in a stellar mood this week. So much so that Tim called me after he arrived at work to timidly wish me a better day today.
I felt bad that I was, while completely justified, grumpy. So tonight I thought I would make a special dinner. I had shrimp and scallops thawed out for seafood pasta in cream sauce. The cast iron skillet had reserved sausage fat saved especially for the frying. The pasta water was of oceanic salinity. The onions and garlic were minced fine.
Then Tim walked through the door. "Let me sear those scallops for you." he started. And then it was all over. He was cooking dinner.
Me: I was going to cook tonight. I know how to cook!
Tim: Oh of course you do. But cooking relaxes me.
Me: I can finish that.
Tim: No, no! This is just what I want to do.
Now, in the world of wives as a whole, I am a pretty good cook. Dinner never comes from a package in the freezer. But sadly, I pale in comparison to my better half in the kitchen. Tonight, I was displaced. Yet I guess, in spite of my wounded pride, that makes me pretty darn lucky.
Post Script: Morrigan just came up to me and asked, "What are you blogging about?" I explained that I was writing about Daddy hijacking dinner preparations, to which she patted me on the head, much as one would a small child, and told me, "It's ok, maybe you can cook tomorrow when he is at work." Second class all round.