Oddly speaking, if you asked me about my current life right now, most who know me would be forced to yell, “you just can’t make this shit up,” which seems like a pretty accurate metaphor for my life as a redhead mom.
Tonight I fixed a five star dinner for my ex husband. I used to be almost a gourmet chef in my home, but years as a single mom and making monetary choices for my time, and not being in any way interested in proving to anyone my abilities in the kitchen, oatmeal is a stretch now. I pretty much set the stove on fire once a week, then offer money to Brian to scramble some eggs.
So, when I show up in a kitchen to cook and the fire extinguishers aren’t on open display, next to the stove, we should all celebrate with a glass of a local Sonoma County Zinfandel.
It was my ex’s birthday today and our son wanted to have a dinner for his dad. He saved some money and wanted to give his dad a watch and have his parents, along with a grandmother all celebrate over a sweet dinner meal. You’d have to know what charm looks like when best served up from a sweet, slightly shy, blond haired, tall nerd boy who believes every one should just get over themselves and get along.
I said yes, then punched myself.
If as a parent we cannot overcome our own selfish tendencies and accommodate such a small wish, then who are we really… to claim we love our children? I get that it is easier for them if we would all just get along and hang out in one place from time to time. We once did have sex to create this lovely child, didn’t we?
My dinner kicked ass.
Tender roasted, range fed Teriyaki chicken breasts, steamed asparagus with mayonnaise butter and balsamic vinegar dressing, sweet onion roasted yams; a Sonoma Valley Red and fresh local strawberries. Fresh lemonade for the boy. My son had water.
My mother made Brian take her for a walk. My ex loves his watch that his son worked chores to buy. He still has a lot more chores coming … trust me on this.
I love you Brian, and so does your dad.