So, the amazingly dutiful wife that I am, I treated my man to a fabulous feast on Tuesday evening. The dinner included marinating some prime Angus steaks that I bought in the marked down meat bin at Kroger's, but nobody else needs to know that. What happens in the Kroger reject meat department stays in the Kroger reject meat department. Sabe? I even broke out my fancy glass trifle bowl in order to bring the meal to a grand conclusion with Papi's favorite dessert, "This Pudding is Bananas B-A-N-A-N-A-S" Banana Pudding. It's Gwen Stefani's secret surefire No Doubt recipe.
After gorging ourselves carnivore style, I had to gently remind Papi that I spent a lot of money and time on him and that steak dinners don't come cheap. He looked genuinely confused when he wrinkled his nose and asked, "What do you mean, girlie?" Pithily, I told him "I'm just saying that I put out for your meal and now I expect the same of you." Papi's hangdog expression at this juncture was priceless.
Role reversal? Check. Breaking down gender stereotypes? Check. Making Gloria Steinem clap her hands with delight? Check. A night of dinner and free entertainment? Double check. There must have been something in them there Nilla wafers. Hmmmmm, I wonder what I could ask for if I served up steak and lobster?