Last night I made a salad for Wesley with all the tasty accoutrements – romaine lettuce, avocado, Gorgonzola cheese, croutons, grilled chicken, and Italian Dressing. We have been eating salads lately since we’ve noticed a bit of weight gaining up on us lately. Actually, you can only see it on me. Wesley only knows that he’s gained because the scale told him so. His beautiful body doesn’t react to additional pounds. I am convinced men have it too easy. Anyhow…as we sat down to eat, I noticed that he was scarfing down his food like he hadn’t had a meal in over a week. All I could do is stare. After completing his meal, he walks into the kitchen and starts to stuff his mouth even more with the extra pieces of chicken I called myself “grilling” in the pan. With a mouth full of food he says,
“Nik, what did you do different with the chicken this time? It’s dry, charred, and brittle. It’s…it’s…its PERFECT!”
Now, to many of us, that sounds unappetizing, but not to my sweetie pie.
“Actually Wes… I burnt it.”, I replied.
As he proceeds to lick his fingers of dry chicken flavoring like he was eating a juicy piece of fried chicken he responds,
“Mmm…well keep that up. That was some good chicken.”
Who would ever think that overcooked, dehydrated chicken would be a request of their husband. In fact, Wesley is ‘that’ customer at a restaurant that will return his steak, hamburger, or even eggs if they aren’t super well-done. Is super well-done even a choice at a restaurant? What trips me out the most is that his mom is a great cook – one of the best that I know. But to Wesley, the drier, the better. I guess I gotta’ give the man what he likes, right? He has totally made my cooking responsibilities way too easy. All I have to do is put the meat on the pan and wait until the fire alarm goes off.
This uncomplicated request really made me realize that my husband is a very simple man. His requests are not in abundance. Essentially, this trait is so adorable to me because Wesley is unlike anyone that I’ve known and I’ve learned to embrace his distinctiveness to a point that I admire it. If I had married a man that expected a gourmet meal every night, or even two days a week… okay …even one day a week, I would fail miserably. Thank God for burnt poultry – I can hardly get this request wrong.
My husband doesn’t really ask for too much, so why not give him what his little heart desires – burnt chicken it is!