Yesterday, when my sweet young Vietnamese friend, Chi, came for my help with English, she surprised me with two dozen homemade spring rolls. I knew my husband would be thrilled. When he came home from work, I had a few of the rolls sizzling in oil on the stove, the rest of the dinner nearly ready as well. We sat down at the table, held hands, bowed our heads, and he said grace as he usually does. Then he dug into those delicious spring rolls.
A few minutes later, I put the rest of the dinner on the table, a tuna-spinach casserole (trust me, it’s delicious), macaroni and cheese, and a baked acorn squash which my husband had cut open for me that morning before he left for work since those winter squashes are just too hard for me to cut.
I placed his plate in front of him, sat down in front of mine, reached across the table to hold his hand, and started to bow my head. He looked at me and began laughing.
“Honey, we already said grace.”
Not missing a beat, I continued to bow my head while holding his hand and said, “I just wanted to offer up another prayer, Lord, for my wonderful husband who would never make me feel like a stupid old woman.”
He needed to dry his eyes with his napkin, he was laughing so hard. We were enjoying the rest of the meal, especially the acorn squash that was filled with butter and brown sugar, soft and delicious, when I decided to thank my husband again for his help that morning.
“Thank you for helping me with the squash because it’s always too hard for me to cut.”
He looked over at the squash on my plate. “I don’t know what you’re talking about, honey. Why would you need help cutting the squash? It looks perfectly soft to me.” He smiled at me innocently.
I grabbed his hand again. “We need to pray some more.”
On another note, I wrote 25 words less than 2000 words yesterday on my novel, not a bad show when I had such little time. I may have to increase my 20,000-word goal.