How do I love thee?

I do little things every day that show my love for my husband. Goodness, being pregnant and uncomfortable is a big way to show him that I love him. Doing the monotonous chores of laundry, cleaning, cooking, etc. are other ways. But today I thought he better know how much I love him because of dinner. I'm not talking about the home made apple pie or fresh baked rolls that will be awaiting him when he gets home from church. Oh no. I'm talking about the chicken.

You see, yesterday we were at the store and he picked out a whole chicken to cook for Sunday dinner. I was totally cool with the idea because we haven't done a big chicken since I don't know when and I was coming up short for ideas for Sunday dinner. I knew I would have to cook it, even though he said he would prepare it, because he'd be at church all day. I've been cooking meat for the past 8 years, even though I never eat it. Yep, I'm a vegetarian. Have been for 15 years and always will be. So who knows if I can actually cook meat. I must do a good job or Marshall must be a great liar. I don't mind cooking meat or eating things that have been cooked with meat. I just don't like the texture of meat.

However, Marshall didn't have time to prepare the chicken this morning. Fancy that since he starts church at some early hour with lots of meetings. So at the appointed time I got the chicken out of the fridge and read the instructions. It mentioned something about taking the giblets out of the body cavity and I think "Wait a minute. This isn't what I had signed up for." I had completely forgotten about the giblet part. Well, it was one of the situations where no one else was there to do it so I had to do it myself. I couldn't call Marshall home from church for 5 minutes just to do it. "Sorry, tell the person their confession will have to wait because I have a giblet emergency!" At least I know where my priorities lie. Eternal salvation is still more important than giblet emergencies. So I took the plunge and removed the giblets. Now mind you, I've been slicing, dicing, and bagging raw meat for the past eight years. But the feeling of taking out those giblets was just nasty. Ugh. No thank you times a million. In case I was bordering on wanting to eat meat again, that cured me from being tempted.

So Marshall, you better know how much I love you today by my preparing and cooking a whole chicken. I wouldn't do that for just anyone.