Saturday, July 21, 2007
Just home after work the other night, my wife had passed me on the road less than a mile from the house. My son informed me that there was salmon for dinner. In a skillet, cooling after cooking, a salmon fillet sat, sauteed in tomatoes with spices—white and black peppercorns, whole cloves, rosemary, and cumin. Unusual, but nice and tasty. My wife is really a very good cook.
She gets home later that night, and tired, moves to put away the salmon that I had left out for her. Taking the lid off, container in hand, she says, "What's this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, all the spices in the salmon?"
"I still don't get it. What"?
"I didn't put those in there"?
"What?"
At that point my eight year old son stuck his head through the railing upstairs: "Hi, mom!"
My wife and I looked at each other. Then I looked up: "Say, kiddo, did you put all these spices in the salmon?"
A big grin. "Wasn't it, good, Dad?"
She gets home later that night, and tired, moves to put away the salmon that I had left out for her. Taking the lid off, container in hand, she says, "What's this?"
"What do you mean?"
"Well, all the spices in the salmon?"
"I still don't get it. What"?
"I didn't put those in there"?
"What?"
At that point my eight year old son stuck his head through the railing upstairs: "Hi, mom!"
My wife and I looked at each other. Then I looked up: "Say, kiddo, did you put all these spices in the salmon?"
A big grin. "Wasn't it, good, Dad?"
# posted by goldpython @ 9:18 PM 
