Acceptance

A while back, I was forced to accept that whatever meatloaf I made would never measure up to my mother-in-law's meatloaf.  Which, honestly, didn't bother me all that much because well, it's meatloaf.


But even when I followed her directions exactly (which, by the way, were like directions from anyone who has cooked a long time - "oh I just throw in a little of this and if I don't have that, then I use this..."), I still get the wistful looks from Kevin like he's remembering a childhood from a Norman Rockwell painting.


But this takes the cake.


Just three days ago, on Valentine's Day, we were all sitting at the table eating diner when Kevin made a comment about how he could sure use some chocolate chip cookies for Valentine's Day.  Being as it was 6:30pm and I didn't have enough butter, I tried to get out of it, but he valiantly offered to go to the store.  


Then he burst out "Oh, you should make them like my mom made them.  They were so incredibly awesome.  She used this recipe.  It was on the back of...."  And he jumped up and opened the cabinet to find the chocolate chips. 


"Yes!  Here it is!  It's on the back of the chocolate chips!  See, right here?  Oh yes, that was it!!"


I stole a glance at Rachel, who mirrored my dumbfounded expression.


"Kevin.  This is the recipe that I use.  That I've used forever.  Everybody uses this recipe.  Any chocolate chip cookie you have eaten in this house in the past 13 years has been this recipe."


He looked genuinely surprised.  Because obviously he was remembering the taste of a cookie so amazing that his wife couldn't possibly duplicate it.  Or perhaps his momma is just up there on the pedestal...with her meatloaf and chocolate chip cookies!  

Good thing I like the lady.  Otherwise, this could be trouble.