Does any other man do this? At our house, the groceries are mine. I can take my choice of uncooked rice, pasta, produce, a package of raw bacon. Strangely once it is cooked, Bud refers to it as my chicken, my fish, my biscuits. The list goes on and on.
For example, today we had company for lunch. I turned a whole bunch of my groceries into Bud’s fried chicken, Bud’s rolls,Bud’s green beans, Bud’s sweet potato casserole, and Bud’s apple pie. It was delicious. Somehow, when looking lunch was over and clean up in progress, it was as all mine again.
Tonight, after dinner Bud asked if any of his pie left. Sadly. If was all eaten. “Who ate ALL my pie. I reminded him we’d had six to lunch. I’d cut the pie in six pieces.
When he was ready for dinner tonight, he came out looking stricken. “Who ate all my chicken? There’s only three pieces left!
”That should be plenty for your dinner.” I told him. You have plenty of green beans, sweet potato casserole , and rolls left. That should be plenty.”
“Well who ate all my chicken? Did you send it all home with with your mother?”
”I did send her a leg and a thigh for her dinner. She had only weighs 102 pounds. I’m glad she got out with it before he missed his chicken. She only weighs 102 pounds. She needs protein.”
Nutsrok 
Some men, many I’ve known are silly about things like that. Not my husband thank goodness. One thing I’m glad we started years ago was he does his own laundry. I think it started in 2015? when I was so sick. I enjoy the extra time now. He even helps wash the towels and put them away. A bit off-topic.
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Bud helps sometimes. His standards aren’t too high, so I’m glad when he does anything.
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I hear you!!!!
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So true of men….:)
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This was funny because it is so like so many men
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Three days short of 58 years. One of the first things I did after he died was call and cancel our reservation for lunch at a restaurant on the Blue Ridge Parkway. You can laugh — the view of the mountains was probably more interesting to him than the food.
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We made 54 in August. I’d like the food and the views.
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I laughed. John was not a foodie. It took me 50 years to learn that. All that time I cooked to please him, but food was just fuel — a means to an end, you see. He was a little possessive of his birthday cake, always angel food cake with fresh local strawberries.
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I ‘m so glad he had one weakness. How long were you married?
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