Tonight, Kelly and I took a big step forward in our relationship.
We cooked. Meat. Chicken. Free-range chicken, to be precise. We had carefully planned this out since early in the week. We had every possible contingency covered. Before we started, we had 9-1-1 set on speed dial on Kelly’s cell phone, which was placed carefully on the counter beside the George Foreman grill. And before even attempting to cook the chicken, we marinaded it first, in a lemon-pepper marinade.
Okay, so the chicken. We were both terrified by it. Neither of us wanted to touch it. Casting my mind back on the events of the early evening, I recall a conversation that went something like this:
“You touch it.”
“No, you first.”
“I’ll touch it if you touch it.”
We put our combined brain-power together (Kelly’s making up 99% of said power) and decided that neither of us had to touch it. We could use forks and knives. And did we ever. So afraid of the chicken were we that we used a clean fork and knife each time we had to “touch” the chicken. There were two thick breasts and the George Foreman grill could handle only one at a time.
The previous sentence was purposely planted to give strausmouse something lewd on which to comment.
After the first chicken breast had been cooking for several minutes, we cut into the thickest part (with a new fork and knife) in order to see if it was cooked. Clearly it wasn’t. It cooked for several more minutes and we checked again (another clean knife and fork). Finally, it looked done. Kelly and I ate the first breast while the second one cooked.
I should mention that we can multitask. While all of this was going on, we were also steaming broccoli and carrots. We munched on the veggies while we ate the chicken. Which turned out pretty good. So did the second breast. We ate standing up in the kitchen, both of us nervous, both wondering when the salmonella pains would begin. But so far, so good.
Once dinner was finished, it turned out there were no forks and knives left. So we cleaned all of the dishes and washed the counters down four times, just to be safe.
Oh, and did I mention we have dessert too? The box of girl scout cookies I ordered was delivered today and so we have girl scout cookies for dessert!
Yes, it’s a big step forward and we are both excited and nervous by the prospect of this new-found level our relationship has taken us.
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