On the eleventh day of Christmas, my true loves gave to me…..eleven fairtrade beads, ten minutes walking, nine minutes sledding, eight pieces pizza, seven inches snow, six chocolatechip cookies, five hours alone……four people dressed, three frozen fruit treats, two burning snowmen and a queasy feeling in my tummy
I’m not what one might call a mushy kind of person. You wouldn’t catch me wearing a sweatshirt that said ‘I love Jason’ or ‘I love my kids’. Well, you wouldn’t catch me wearing a sweatshirt – but that’s another story.
The closest I probably ever came to mushy was practicing my ‘married’ signature during astronomy class. But that probably had more to do with my utter disinterest in the course, than anything else. It was, after all, the only class I ever ran out of when the professor turned his head for a minute. Unfortunately he turned around a little faster than I’d bargained for and saw me and my partner in crime exit, yelling ‘hey’ as we bolted. Needless to say I didn’t bother contesting my appalling grade – a girl has to have some dignity.
I’ve dabbled in mush over the years. I sent Jason flowers at work once during our newly married days. I believe his response was ‘why did you send me flowers?’ When I suggested he seemed ungrateful, he claimed he’d just been ‘surprised’.
Today I decided to dip my toes in the waters of mush again, this time trying something I KNEW he’d appreciate: I baked muffins using muffin liners.
I have a few quirky habits that drive my other half insane. Like not cleaning up the kitchen after I cook or bake; hanging wet clothes to dry over doors (we don’t have an indoor clothesline or one of those drying racks); leaving drawers open, after I retrieve something. And the worst offender of all – or the one he complains about the most – I bake muffins without using muffin liners.
I’m not entirely evil, I just tend to forget to use them or don’t have them on hand. Also, I find it sort of cumbersome to peel muffin liner off a baked muffin. And I don’t like those little indentations on the side. Plus, I figure with a little bit of soaking, it should come clean easily enough. But, usually, three days of soaking in water later……those dark three dimensional marks are still there.
So today, as I baked carrot muffins, I decided to show my husband that I am sympathetic to his plight. That I’ve heard his cries over the last 12 years. I found the liners. Inserted them in the muffin tin. And filled them with batter. I even washed a few dishes and stacked the rest of the dirty ones.
Just call me wife of the year.