He Cooks!

Ever since high school, I've said that I want to marry someone who cooks...

This man is ALWAYS serving me. From ice cream to hot chocolate to meals, he will stop whatever he's doing to take care of my belly. He will even stop his mom from stepping in to get me something. And of course, I am not allowed to lift a finger. 

If I start scooping my own ice cream, I get, "You're doing it wrong...no no no...just let me do it."  

I didn't know there was a right way or a wrong way to scoop ice cream.

If he's making dinner and I try to help out by stirring one pot while he takes care of something else, I get, "Stop. No. You have a baby....even though you're the woman, and this is supposed to be your place." 

"Umm... he's playing happily on the floor behind us...what do you think every other mom in the world does?"

"They have nannies."

"No...they don't. They sit their babies on the floor behind them and stir the pot....just like I was trying to do."

Needless to say, I still didn't win. I was shooed away.

And tonight... he was getting ready to go for a run with his brother after we picked up Little Dude from daycare. He said, "Can I come over later?"

"Sure!"

"Do you have dinner plans?"

"Nope."

"Want me to bring you something?"

"Sure."

"What do you want?"

"Surprise me."

"I don't like that--pick something. I'm going to make it there."

"Burgers?"

"Done."

Then at home... Mom asked what I was doing for dinner... "Mike's making it for me later."

Mom: "Mike? Is making you something here?"

Dad: "What's wrong with that? Other than the fact that he wants to do it here."

Mom: "He's comfortable with that?"

Me: "I guess so."

Mom: "Wow."