On Sunday, my mom posted a note on Facebook that, to paraphrase, said ... my grandmother taught her in order to keep a man, a woman needed to learn how to bake ... and my cupcakes were so good that she knew I'd have no trouble keeping mine.
My feminist sisters must be gnashing their teeth at this moment. But if I'm being honest, when I saw Mom's post, I thought it was sweet ... in a sentimental, antiquated way. It brought to mind memories of my grandma ... wearing her apron ... standing in her kitchen ... hand rolling dough for pies or making the most amazing sweet rolls I've ever tasted from that day to this.
I'm sure my grandma had nothing but the best of intentions. However, in my case, my man is a talented cook in his own right. His lasagna is absolutely amazing ... he can whip up a grilled cheese that will make your mouth water ... and he makes a cheesy, chicken tater-tot casserole dish that is the very definition of comfort food.
So despite her best intentions ... I'm not exactly sure my baking skills will be what keeps him around. But ... I do believe in hedging my bets. So ... I'll be providing him with lots and lots of love ... and a little candied bacon on the side.
And no, Grandma ... that ... was not a euphemism ...
You make me happy with the things you do
Oh, can it be so
This feeling follows me wherever I go
I never did believe in miracles
But I've a feeling it's time to try
I never did believe in the ways of magic
But I'm beginning to wonder why
Fleetwood Mac -
You Make Loving Fun
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