I got made fun of the other day for saying that I would rather spend my money on a good meal than on a shopping trip. My preference was used as a fat joke of sorts, “That’s why you have to drink smoothies for lunch and I don’t, har har.” And it made me feel kind of shitty. I mean, obviously.
And then last night, Mike and I started a new tradition of Sunday dinners at our house where we finally break open the fancy cookbooks and make something for dinner that takes more effort and preparation. We eat our meal at the table together, no tv and no take out. Our first meal wasn’t really fancy, it was just a perfectly roasted chicken with root vegetables. It might not have been fancy, but it took care and time and thought and it was delicious. Mike and I sat at the table marveling over the flawlessly moist chicken, tasting a new wine, planning next week’s Sunday meal, and talking about instilling the love of good food into our future kids. It was lovely.
I woke up this morning to get ready for work and when I walked into the kitchen to get some coffee, I spotted the cookbook we used last night and smiled from the memory of the lovely dinner. And I thought to myself, when do you get THAT from a shopping trip? Heartwarming moments, deep conversations, smiles, and memories happen for Mike and I while bumping into each other in the kitchen prepping a meal and around the kitchen table clinking together our wine glasses. Did little miss fat joke’s last solo shopping trip bring a happy memory and a smile to her face the next morning or just a look of shock when her credit card bill came in the mail? I’m guessing the latter.
And yes, I love to shop as much as the next guy, but it’s so nice to be reminded every once in a while that it’s the little things that can really make a moment. Nothing fancy or expensive, just a nice meal with your husband in your pjs. I’ll take that any day, fat jokes and all.