Just Call Me Susie

When Scott and I were first married I didn’t have a lot to offer in the domestic wifely way.

I couldn’t really cook.

I hated to clean.

I’ll do the laundry, but I won’t put it away.

He didn’t really marry a prize of woman.

We did, however, get great wedding gifts. My Aunt Deanna got us a great set of pots and pans. The Van Winkles got us all 10 places settings to my everyday dishes. One of my ex-boyfriends got us a food processor. A lot of relatives got us place settings to our china. My cousin, John Renaker, got us a toaster oven.

Here we were all set in the kitchen arena.

So, I decided I better learn how to feed this man. What is the old saying, a way to a man’s heart is through is stomach?

I don’t think they had the TV Food Network back then. They did have this English guy named Graham something or other and I would watch him.

One day I got all jiggy with it and decided I was going to make beef stew. I got out the crock pot given to us by my cousin, Bob. I was cooking with wine and garlic and meat and spices. I was getting the hang of this. Just call me Susie Homemaker.

I get out those dishes and set the table at like 3:00 in the afternoon. Scott gets home from work and I am so proud of myself. I pop the dinner rolls into the oven and serve dinner. As I am buttering my bread, I notice that Scott has taken a bite, but hasn’t said a word. Not. One. Word. I finally take a bite, and it is awful. Somewhere along the lines, I used WAY TOO MUCH pepper. I look at him and proclaim that this is awful.

The look of relief that came over his face was noticeable. He told me he was so glad that I was the one to say that.

We left that crap on the table and went and grabbed a hamburger at Carl’s Jr. (That is known as Hardees for all of you reading this that live in GA)

16 years have passed and I am a much, much better cook.

Except for stew.

I just can’t master stew!