I casually asked my husband if he wanted to prepare some slow-cooking meat on this snowy Sunday for dinner later on -- it just sounded good to me and I knew we had the makings on hand. This is traditionally his job. Today, I was hovering in the kitchen, which was a mistake. I forgot he has been working out at the gym for an entire year. Of course he got right to work. He hefted his cast iron dutch oven in from the garage. He slapped three thawed boneless pork chops in the bottom of the dutch oven and poured a huge amount of salt on them. Yikes! Then he got out half an onion from the fridge and I watched as he used his bare hands to tear the onion apart. No cutting board or paring knife, even though they were inches away. Just his hands! "Why not?" he said, ignoring my squeals. In one motion he then emptied an entire bottle of barbecue sauce on the small amount of meat, and then drowned it all with water. "I've been here before," he grunted. "They have to be covered."I told my strong man he's going to smell strongly of onions at church but he didn't seem to care. I suppose that's what I get.
6 comments:
Yeah, baby. . . Those are going to be some fine ribs--falling apart and flavorful. And when the word gets around, the other onions will be quaking in their skins when they see me coming. Wait till I tell the guys at the gym. Haha.
Ha! I have to see this! Dad is like Popeye or something!
I guess he's too manly to use such things as KNIVES and thing. Silly mom. If you ask him to do something girly like cook, he's going to have to show off his manliness somehow.
He am what he am.
Go daddio! That gym is really worth your money! I have heard nothing but your feats of strength since you have been attending regularly.
Dad, you crazy guy! I have seen the likes of your muscles, and they are quite large. You are starting to look like Popeye or something! (There I go again, having the same comment as Melody!)
Post a Comment