This is my husband Bob, born and raised in Perkasie Pa. He moved to Florida in 1970 and never returned to PA. He is a died-in-the-wool southerner now. When we got married in 1985, he had never eaten grits or collard, turnip, mustard greens. Mother introduced him to the greens, he loves them now. I introduced him to grits and he loves that to.
Now for “The Point of this story”.
He cooks grits better than I do. 10 years ago, I had surgery and he learned to cook or go hungry, grits was one of the things he learned. His tasted better than mine, so since then, when I want grits he cooks it. Note I said IT, he still calls grits THEM, but that is another story.
Last night I said,” I want grits for dinner”, since I knew he did not want to cook, I said “why don’t you tell me how you do yours, I will do it the same way and see if it comes out the same”.
First he is sitting at the bar and telling me how to measure, before I can even get the measuring cup out, he comes to the stove and says let me show you how, he measures the water, puts butter in the water, measures the grits and pours it in the water when it starts to boil, then he starts stirring and says stirring is the secret. By this time I am laughing out loud. He says WHAT? I say “I feel like Tom Sawyer”, he says WHAT? I say “ you know like he got everyone to paint the fence for him while he sat back and watched.” He still did not GET IT, do you?
Now for “The Point of this story”.
He cooks grits better than I do. 10 years ago, I had surgery and he learned to cook or go hungry, grits was one of the things he learned. His tasted better than mine, so since then, when I want grits he cooks it. Note I said IT, he still calls grits THEM, but that is another story.
Last night I said,” I want grits for dinner”, since I knew he did not want to cook, I said “why don’t you tell me how you do yours, I will do it the same way and see if it comes out the same”.
First he is sitting at the bar and telling me how to measure, before I can even get the measuring cup out, he comes to the stove and says let me show you how, he measures the water, puts butter in the water, measures the grits and pours it in the water when it starts to boil, then he starts stirring and says stirring is the secret. By this time I am laughing out loud. He says WHAT? I say “I feel like Tom Sawyer”, he says WHAT? I say “ you know like he got everyone to paint the fence for him while he sat back and watched.” He still did not GET IT, do you?
He loves dogs, planes, beaches, swimming pools, fishing and COOKING!
Since he refuses to let me take his photo, I have several Hundred of Him, most are grabbed when he is not looking. Note the Scowl in the above.
7 comments:
Glad you got your grits! And just the way you wanted them. Looks like the two of you have alot of fun. Great story and pics!
That's a great post, Sandra. He looks just like he did when I first met him.
Love the pictures of your Hubby. I do think you were Tom Sawyer at that!! You have a great way with words too.
Thanks for stopping by my blog. Come again sometime.
I got it! You pretended that you wanted to learn how to make grits like his, so he would get up and cook you some grits. You cagy little devil, you! You go girl!
Sandra..finally able to make a comment- here! I tried on the previous two but couldn't for some reason? I'll come back in the morning as I'm not on my main computer! This is a sweet share- love all these pictures!! Wow- very nice- both of you two look charming!! (Hugs) I will be back! Thanks for your comment too-
I’m having so much fun clicking away and reading these past posts!
I got the Tom Sawyer before you even said it.
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