It was another long day. The new medical records computer system that went “live” just over a week ago at my office has not sped up the process of seeing patients and recording their medical data. In all reality, it has slowed everyone down. We are spending 20 minutes on each patient just trying to plug their meds into the program; by the time I make my way into the room their actual appointed time slot to see me is over. Therefore, I am running into and through the next patient’s minutes causing a snowball effect of each patient needing the time slot of the following patient, etc. etc. It is wearisome to have my fellow coworkers day in and day out complain and question the entire system. By the end of the day, I am completely exhausted and mentally drained.

The drive home is quiet and I think about my duties when I get home; someone has to make dinner. On any other day, I am usually excited to get through the day into my kitchen. It is a place where I find solace as I mix flavors and test out new recipes. Just as running and working out relaxes me, cooking also calms my nerves and makes me feel at peace at the end of the day. I feel like I am nourishing both my husband’s and my soul. We meet together at the end of a long day apart over a bowl of pasta or a plate of chicken and share our days with each other. However, on this day, the last thing I want to do is stand in the kitchen for any length of time prepping, mixing, and cooking food.

As I walk through the front door, I see a sight that erases all the problems of my day. There is my husband, a man who works more than 12 hours most days of the week out in the “field,” where he’s exposed to all the elements, standing over the sink washing dishes. He happened to have a rare day in the office and managed a light 9 hours of work today. He puts the dishes in the drainboard, gives me a quick kiss, and then says the magic words, “Don’t worry, I’m making dinner.”

In that sentence, I fall in love with him all over again. This man has cooked for me less than a handful of times in our entire 4 years of coupledom. As soon as he found out my love for the kitchen, he wiped his hands clean and let me step in and take over the food that entered his mouth. Not to say that I could feed him whatever I wanted (see “Soy Paradise” below for more on that), but I think he felt that if I enjoyed cooking why should he spend precious free time doing something he didn’t care so much about when I was so ready and willing? So on this rare day, I basked in his selflessness, and enjoyed being cooked and served for.

Today’s Simplest Pleasures:

1.) Sometimes it’s o.k. to relax and let someone else help you carry the load. Us women tend to want to do it all, but in reality, we all could use a little helping hand.

2.) Appreciate the selfless acts in life.

3.) Food prepared by another hand can taste so good!

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