It began with the meatloaf. Kindly, my lovely neighbor brought her extras from dinner to spare me the trouble of cooking. I called her blessed as I was relieved of having to come up with a meal for one less day.
As my husband came home from a long day, he casually asked "what's for dinner?"
I replied "meatloaf, courtesy of our awesome neighbor."
Then came the look. Now if ever there were a sweet spot in my husband's heart, it's for meat loaf. And mashed potatoes, and Jell-o salads and pretty much anything that Betty Crocker ever uttered. Yes, my husband is a plain and simple, meat and potatoes love kind of guy.
I am not. I am a spice it until your lips look like you just had Botox sort of cook. I am season it until it wants to get up and do a dance in a red hot dress sort. I love every kind of exotic food, weird spice, unusual and strange fare that sends my husband's Prilosec-loving stomach into flips just thinking about it.
So there was the meatloaf. Love at first site by him, a side of jealousy sauce bubbling in me.
It occurred to me that maybe I was trying too hard and needed to give it a sweet rest. Those were not my words, but words that were inspired in me as my son was reading the 10 Commandments as part of his devotion time.
It went something like this.... "Thou shalt not be jealous of what your neighbors have...or what your neighbors possessions are or your neighbor's meatloaf!" I swear I read meatloaf jealousy right in the Kid's Adventure Bible.
I decided to give it a rest as instructed by the 10 Commandments. I was trying too hard. As I put down my Bon Appetit magazine and picked up Betty's handbook of 1950s perfection, I decided sometimes the simple things truly are the best.
