Hey there! It's Thursday and that means it is time for Jeanne-ology. I never tell Jeanne what to write about, so I'm always just as surprised as you are when I take a read through. This post has NOTHING to do with anything, but I love it because reading this is like taking a walk through her mind...which never disappoints. Enjoy! Rebecca
Today I didn't go into PJP. I have been taking Thursdays off for the summer. However, my husband had a doctor's appointment at noon, so I decided I would go in and roll some jelly jars to prepare for a huge shipment on Tuesday. Rebecca said I didn't need to come in and she had everything under control. She is sweet that way. So I decided to go have a mani and pedi, which was more than overdue.
When I was finished with my nail appointment, my husband was still at the doctor's office. I called Rebecca and she picked me up and to the pie shop we went.
Waiting for my husband to pick me up, Rebecca and I had time alone between customers to talk. That's unusual because between the pie shop, the grandkids and needy husbands, our time is usually taken away. It was fun being at the shop just to visit with her and customers without wearing an apron! One customer talked about thinking what to serve for dinner, mentioning her husband was a picky eater. Rebecca chimmed in and said "ditto!" because she sometimes prepares at least three different evening meals to satisfy her husband and two children. Whaat! Why would you do that? Fix what you want and if they don't like it, don't eat. At least that is how I grew up. I realized that my husband is a "rut eater". A rut eater can eat the same thing day in out and never get bored with the menu.
He could eat a sandwich for lunch everyday and a pizza for dinner every night and never complain. I accuse him of eating to survive and not to enjoy. Oh no, he says, I love subs and pizza! He also likes hamburgers. We could go out to an expensive restaurant and he would order a hamburger! I order a $25 dollar meal and I feel like a hog sitting next to him with his hamburger and fries. Maybe the waiter feels sorry for this man sitting with me. Maybe he thinks that "who is she to order a gourmet meal and make her husband eat a hamburger! That poor man living with a mean woman!"
At home, he doesn't care what I fix. I could put heated dog food on his plate and he would say how good it smells. Of course, he douses everything with ketchup. Sometimes I say that the meal is so good that it doesn't need ketchup. It could be interperated as an insult to the cook. He nods in agreement as he squeezes the ketchup bottle. I really believe that if we were robbed, the first place he would check would be the pantry to make sure they didn't steal the ketchup!
To say the least I would rather have a husband who never complains what I serve up for a meal. (along as there is ketchup on the table) than preparing different meals for a family. Tonight I am serving ketchup sandwiches.