There have been many occasions where I have gotten the credit for cooking a delicious meal.  Like the time our friends had a baby and we took them over a Shepherd’s Pie: the following Sunday the husband says to Drew, “Thank Emily for that wonderful Shepherd’s Pie”.  Drew and I both laughed out loud at that one because if anyone knows us extremely well then they know that Drew is hands down the cook in our house and that said Shepherd’s Pie is his scrumptious creation. The thing is, Drew actually enjoys cooking and baking.  He is good at planning, he gets in to finding random exotic recipes to try out and he enjoys shopping for exotic ingredients to make these recipes.  Whereas I on the other hand just don’t enjoy any aspect of it. I will do it if I need to but in our relationship Drew is the chef.

So tonight’s bedtime story goes like this.  Once upon a time there was a little girl who wouldn’t sit still for a second.  “What do now?” she would repeat all day long because she had to be moving; she had to be ‘cheebing’ (a word Drew made up for randomly pottering and getting into mischief).  So, this one particular evening her Daddy had a brain wave. “Help me make meatballs,” he said.  So she eagerly jumped up on the kitchen counter and sat with the bowl of minced beef mixed with herbs and seasonings and together they made meatballs for dinner.  And what fun they had!  The little girl watched her Daddy intently as he showed her how to roll a ball.  She stirred at times and tried to eat the raw meat, but with Daddy supervising and being strict on hygiene the little girl was safe, as together they made a delicious dinner of spaghetti and meatballs.  High five!