Long Tables, pt. 5

After lunch Molly went into the shower. She left a list of chores on the counter. The way she explained it, our house reflects how people see us, and it wouldn’t kill me to do a little work without bitching and complaining about everything.

So, fine. 

The list was things like dusting the bookshelf and washing the kitchen floor. What I really wanted was to make the chicken. I’ve been working on this new recipe. Basically it’s a roasted bird with sage and onion stuffing. Before it goes in the oven, I rub it with olive oil and different spices. Also I put in some chicken stock and lightly chopped vegetables. The trick for good stuffing is finding the right kind of bread. Then serve it with twice-baked potatoes, and bacon or sour cream on top.

Anyway Molly killed that noise pretty quick. You’d think it would put wind in her sails, me wanting to cook. But it doesn’t, and then I usually end up getting pissed off. Being that it’s a holiday coming up, she’s been staying late at work. I do accounting at Grubb & Wade, which is another way of saying I work hard four months out of the year. The rest of the time I keep the books and pretend like I’m busy. So lately I cook and Molly shuts up about it.

When I brought it up about wanting to make the chicken for her party, she told me forget it. She said because it was her friends and they were sophisticated and she wouldn’t have me shitting everything up. This was just after she got out of the bathroom. Right before she scolded me for not doing my chores.