Mawriage. Mawriage is wut bwings us togethah today. That dweam within a dweam. And let me tell you whippersnappers, fogies, and fellow captives; the secret to a happy marriage is...Immodium.
But I digress, or perhaps I dither. As many of you know, the division of labor in the Kodiak household has been established to where I do most of the cooking.
However on occasion, Mrs. Kod likes to point out, "You know, I used to cook very well."
"Yes, you did, honey." (smile and nod)
"I made salmon with penne."
"You did." (dried fish-like substance, noodles, raw sliced tomatoes. Cringe.)
"I made lion's head meatballs!"
"Oh, yes." (rubber hackey-sack substitutes. Shudder.)
"And you liked the mabu tofu!"
"That was pretty good." (ground pork with tofu, onions, garlic, soy...not bad - only she made such a huge serving that we had to eat it 3 meals a day for 4 days. Still. Have. Nightmares."
As you all know, caring is sharing and sharing is daring and daring is bearing your spouses eccentricities. Foolish is the man who does not encourage his loving spouse to believe that she is capable, confident, and needed. And thus was Egg Day born. Once a week, Mrs. Kod goes into work a little later. Instead of sleeping in like a reasonable lady, she instead braves the cold and dark morn to cook breakfast for the family. On most days, she does a rather nice scrambled egg dish . But recently, she made a fateful decision, "I think I'm going to make poached eggs today."
"That sounds nice, honey." (Sweet. Mother. Of. Gawd.)
"It's easy, right? Just boil water, vinegar, salt, pepper...dunk them for 15 seconds, then crack and add for 3 minutes?"
"Yes. That's the formula." (Someone help me. Can I fake an emergency call?)
But, I was trapped by tradition. By fate. By choice. I sat there at the table sipping my coffee and tried to remember the last time we checked the fire extinguisher...
"Here you go. Looks good?"
"Looks great! Thanks!" (Ulp.) On my plate were two well-formed, poached eggs...which were still raw in the middle.
"They might be a little soft. It was getting too hot, so I turned the heat down."
"Um. The whole idea of poaching is to use boiling water..." (oh bluidy hell)
"You...you...mean you don't like them?"
"Oh no! They're great! Nothing like a runny, gooey egg. Mmm!!!" (FML)
I ate the whole plate. Grabbed my laptop bag, gave the missus a peck on the cheek, and herded the kid into the car. After dropping Little K off at preschool, I could already feel my stomach doing the too-familiar churn. Would this be the day that salmonella finally kicked my *ss? Nay sayeth I! For I have drugs and they are good!!!
And that friends, would be why I always stock my car with Immodium.
'Fess up, CGB. What little games do you play for the sake of your loved ones? Do you listen to your boring older relative's stories? Do you endure snoring? Do you get abused by little kids? The people have a right to know!!!