John Shore Christian Blog and Commentary

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Spaghetti Sauce, Disgusting Jokes, Love

I'm sitting on the other side of the table. But that's our kitchen.

As I write this, my wife is in the kitchen making spaghetti sauce.

I just said to her, "Are you feeling saucy?" In response she gave me that look she gives me when she wants to help me understand the wearying depth of her burden.

Anyway, spaghetti sauce! I thought I was going to tell you how we make ours, but how boring would that be? Who doesn't know how to make spaghetti sauce? A few cans of tomato puree, some bell peppers and mushrooms, two or three cups of steamed Brussels sprouts ... and you're ready to eat!

We put wine in ours. Or we would have, this time, if my wife hadn't naively left the bottle here on the table right next to me.

But it's cool; in about a half hour, I'll just vomit into the sauce.

No, but for real: it's an exceptionally sweet pleasure for me to be sitting here at our dining room table on a Saturday evening watching my wife cook. She never gets to; for the past 25 years I, alas (what with the stay-at-home-writing thing I do) have been our cook. But of the two of us, she's by far the more natural (and naturally gifted) cook.

Plus, this moment's all ... old school style. I practically feel like busing out a pipe, having a martini, and real quick buying a dog that I could immediately train to bring me my slippers.

I mean, she's in the kitchen, cooking, and wearing an apron.

It's like she died and went to heaven. And took me with her.

Which I suppose will one day be about what happens, either way.

But before then, the whole Domesticity thing we've been doing for so long now pretty wholly works.

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