Last night when I went to sleep, I pulled the covers over my face, grabbed my husbands arm, threw it over my chest, backed him into the farthest recesses of our bed and fell asleep.
I was very comfortable.
At 4 am, I woke up because I couldn’t feel him anymore, so I popped my head up, crawled back over to him and nudged my head into the pocket that sits between his underarm and his right chest breast, and I fell back to sleep.
Because. . .
I was comfortable.
I like to be comfortable.
This is one of the main reasons why I do anything. Because my ultimate goal is comfort.
Why do I cook? Food comforts me.
Why do I put up Christmas lights? Subdued twinkling lights, lull me.
Why did I marry this man? Because he has ridges in his body that fit me perfectly and he’s a really nice blanket pillow. And this my friends, is comfortable.
With all of that said, there are times in my life when I have not been comfortable, and I don’t look back on them fondly.
The year my parents made me join gymnastics. Bad idea.
The day I watched Tommy Granger eat boogers at his desk while we watched 1000 Leagues under the Sea. Unbearable.
And two years ago. When I was forced to play a Mother/Daughter softball game. . . .using my left hand/arm. I think I died a thousand deaths.
And I promise, I’m not over-reacting. It is physically painful for me. I hate it. And, I’m being asked to do it again.
Not join gymnastics.
A Mother/Daughter game. And I don’t wanna.
They may not make me play with my left hand, I’m really not sure. But it doesn’t matter, because what I’m really afraid of is that the lady that wears the brown mu mu and walks dragging her feet will be better than me. And that I won’t be able to hit the ball to save my life. And that if I do, I’ll start to run and my feet will suddenly grow 10 inches and I’ll have to run to first base with my toes jutting out like a clown. And my husband will be watching. .. .and he’ll think, “Damn. I thought she was athletic. Why does she run hunched over like that? Is that her butt jiggling that way? Why is she sweating profusely? Is she panting like a dog? Boy. That’s unattractive.”
And he will hate that he married me, because I’m an embarrassment. And my kids will be ashamed because I suck at softball. And the other moms will whisper horrible harsh things about my sweat pants and my t-shirt not matching or being basketball fashion and not softball fashion. IF THERE IS EVEN SUCH A THING. IS THERE SUCH A THING?
The coach will think I’m pathetic.
And I won’t even be able to participate in the barbecue afterwards because I’ll want to puke.
And so I don’t want to go.
Me thinks, I won’t go.
And probably my daughter will hate me for it. Even though, she has quite seriously SCREAMED in my face that she hates softball. Because, it’s boring.
But it won’t matter. She’ll probably disown me for this one action that I am about to inflict upon her. Because it means she’ll miss a PARTY for a sport she hates. And PARTY in her book always trumps EVERYTHING.
It’s my duty to make her miserable.
– – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – – — – – – – – –
It’s a right of childhood.
In order to understand life little one, you must endure something miserable.
– – – Nicki Woo, Home Guru
Also a right of childhood, Green Bean Casserole.
In order to love life little one, you must find comfort in things that do not normally bring you comfort.
– – – – -Nicki Woo, Home Guru
Yes. Like Green Beans.
Like fresh green beans (not canned) steamed to perfection. Tossed in a creamy sauce (that did not come in a can) ladled and nestled next to mushrooms, bell pepper, and onions, and then topped with crunchy ribbons of sweet fried onions (again. . .not from a can).
Simply done. Harmony in your mouth.
Life is as it should be.
Homemade Green Bean Casserole (No can required)
I got this recipe from my blogging pal, Polwig. She is a Cook’s Cook. Always preparing the most delightful things on her blog.
I made this for Mr. Woo’s Holiday dinner at work, and it was gobbled up. I was hoping it would win ‘Best Side” but of course, they decided not to have a competition this this year. Damnit. I’m sure it would have won. Anyway, here’s the recipe, slightly different from Polwig’s which can be found HERE. I used red onion, rather than shallots (because shallots were expensive at my grocer and I really love red onions). And I didn’t put my green beans in an ice bath because. . .1.) I like them on the softer side and 2.)I can be a little lazy like that.
But I think everything else is pretty much the same.