It was a typical Saturday morning. I shuffled into the kitchen, popped in a Keurig cup and placed my favorite mug in position to receive one of God’s greatest gifts to mankind. As the sweet, sweet caffeine slowly dripped into my mug, I rubbed my eyes and ran my hands through my hair attempting to tame the lion’s mane.
I scanned the kitchen to get my bearings. And there it was. The point of unspoken contention for the last five days. The source of quiet frustration. The test I put in place for my husband. The test I didn’t tell him about, the test he failed, and what I am now simply calling The Dish. Continue reading