My husband is under the weather.
He’s got a nasty sinus infection.
In the land of mom this means three things:
1) He is not allowed to touch the baby without a pair of rubber gloves, a bandanna wrapped around his face and a Lysol shower. He looks like some sort of bandit dentist.
2) He is not allowed to sleep in our room. He has been banished to the couch downstairs, which, for me, means falling asleep to the sound of far off video games.
In case you thought 1 and 2 were a little harsh, 3) I have peeled and chopped more parsnips in the past four days than any person should. I have made chicken soup and beef barley soup and root veggie puree soup, in the hopes that one of these soups will cure him. No such luck.
My husband is sick,
which also means that I have been doing the cleaning, the diapering, and, the dreaded grocery shopping. ( Oh, and don’t worry; still not allowed to go near the laundry.)
So today, as I headed to the grocery store to pick up some more root vegetables and sea salt,
I called my mom.
Me: Where are ya?
Mom: At the grocery store. Do you need anything?
Me: No, I’m actually going to Trader Joe’s.
Mom: Oh! Daddy’s on his way there, too! Call him!
And so, I did.
Me: Hey dad, where are you?
Dad: Just heading to Trader Joe’s. What’s up?
Me: Me too!!!!
Dad: Wow! I’ll meet you there!
Me: Yay! So excited!
Dad: Great. We’re like besties!
And yes, my dad did say that, in case you don’t believe me,
which my sister didn’t.
He said it.
Ask him, if you don’t believe me.
All I have to say about that is
I told you so.
And so, I got to enjoy a wonderful afternoon trip to the grocery store,
a chore that I usually dread,
browsing the aisles with my dear dad.
And, if that weren’t enough,
as we were leaving,
and he was loading my bags in my car for me (just another perk of shopping with dad; file with dad carrying shopping basket and dad picking up tab),
we spotted my dad’s oldest sister,
who happens to be another sensational cook.
She’s also the kind of cook (and aunt) who if you happen to mention a hankering for banana cream pie in her presence,
you will wake up the next morning to find a banana cream pie on your doorstep.
It’s happened to my husband.
It’s the best.
And by it, I mean the aunt-delivery-service
and the banana cream pie.
And don’t even get me started on her cheesecake.
So, we spotted my aunt,
and right there, in the middle of the Trader Joe’s parking lot, she and my dad started to go through our shopping bags.
And it went a little something like this:
Look what I found. New JUMBO ASSORTED raisins.
Oh, do you think they’d be good in oatmeal?
Absolutely! And look at this! Corn and Red Pepper Relish.
That looks great, are you going to try that with the pita crackers?
I’m not sure, maybe that or the multigrain corn chips.
What do you think of the sea salt?
The pink sea salt?
Yes, the pink one, in the grinder.
We’re obsessed.
So are we.
And how about the brussels sprouts? Could you make them Au Gratin?
Why? Why would you need to do that?
And then we were really blocking traffic,
so we packed up our last pink sea salt grinder and each went off on our own separate ways.
Except for me and my dad, that is. We went the same way, towards the fish market, so that I could redeem myself
(You see, last night I took the the real age quiz. It said that my real age is 21.4, which is somewhat fabulous, because it’s, sadly, younger than my real, chronological age. The quiz, did, however, tell me that I need to “start making healthier food choices”. Dr. Real Age suggested I eat more fish. I decided to listen to Dr. Real Age’s advice.).
And this day ended up being really lovely.
It was a nice break from cleaning up snotty tissues,
and showering in Purell.
And, before I left, my dad even treated me to a warm, pumpkin scone.
So what if Dr. Real Age thinks my food choices aren’t the greatest;
I got to spend the afternoon making jokes and talking recipes with my dad,
and that kind of joy has to be good for the body,
and the soul.
And, although we would all wish to live long, happy, healthy lives,
isn’t it quality, and not quantity, that counts the most?
And on this Friday, the quality was excellent.
I laughed, I loved,
and I think that my age may have even crept back down to 21.3.