After a long day in the car we arrived home and off he went to the fields to pick up hay bales. I sped off to the grocery store to get stuff for dinner. We knew it was going to be a late dinner so we decided on breakfast for dinner, easy enough.
I returned from the store and fired off a “what time will you be back” text, so I could plan the timing of dinner. I received a quick reply of “about 8.” I turned on some music and set to work.
Eight o’clock rolls around and he comes strutting in through the door to find a not even close to done meal, a clogged sink, a messy kitchen, and a disarrayed me.
But this man doesn’t miss a beat. He unclogs the drain. He cleans up my mess of cut up fruit. He takes out the garbage. He takes the bacon out of the oven. He tells me he doesn’t care if we eat at 10:00 pm.
I start to bounce back from the chaos I had created when a whole new fiasco of gluten free pancake cooking begins. The batter is too thin. They won’t flip. I burnt one. It just doesn’t seem to end. I tell him I SWEAR I’ve made pancakes before and I SWEAR I can cook. I’m quickly spiraling, as the first meal I ever cook for us is a disaster.
Without missing another beat, he pulls me away from the stovetop and we dance. The chaos melts away and I simply slow dance with the man I love in his kitchen.
it’s all i’ve ever wanted
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