I read an article about being married to a chef. I had to laugh because sometimes, one chef wife’s story is completely different from mine, or yours. Yet the same.
In case you don’t know this, I make the majority of the meals around here. Brian is usually at work during dinnertime. I try to save him a plate. He really likes my spaghetti.
Grocery shopping is really done by both of us. I hate crowds of people, they give me major anxiety. Brian has learned this and is more than accommodating to this. Thank God. We also can’t afford glamorous food. We don’t only shop at specialty stores, Aldi and Kroger are just fine.
we I make is from scratch *gasp*. I do enjoy it, but Brian is gone for 10 to 14 hours a day. This means that most bill paying (what do you mean? I have to go to your location?), bank running, dog walking, homework helping, cleaning, cooking, and things most “normal” spouses do together, are done by me. I am tired. Charity likes chicken nuggets and french fries. Sue me. They are in the freezer.
Some of our store trips are done at or around midnight. Brian isn’t home until late. Lucky knows when he shows up, he gets fed, walked, and walked again. Deviate from this and he is cranky. So trips to
the store wal-mart are sometimes made super late. Oh well.
Not everything is terrible. We actually got married on a Friday night. Brian didn’t go back to work after, but waited until the next day, at least.
Saturday night, someone hit my (parked) truck, with me inside. I immediately called Brian. It was 7pm. He answered. He also came home, at the insistence of his boss. I am fine. The truck just has cosmetic damage.
I can talk about work and he gets it. I am not speaking Greek when I tell him I almost cried when someone shapened a knife with something contained in plastic. He gets it.
I can also ask him about my newest creation (sometimes, I try something new in the kitchen). He can tell me exactly how to do what I am trying to do or tell me if it would be good together while I sit in the living room and he is at work.
Yes, sometimes, it can be lonely. Yes, sometimes I don’t have a face to face conversation with anyone over the age of 10 or covered in fur until Brian gets home. I celebrate holidays differently. It doesn’t make them bad or wrong. This is our real life.