Thursday, January 21, 2010

Burnt Buscuits

Someone sent me this in an email the other day and I thought it was sweet. Just passing it along...

When I was a kid, my mom liked to make breakfast food for dinner every now and then. And I remember one night in particular when she had made breakfast after a long, hard day at work. On that evening so long ago, my mom placed a plate of eggs, sausage and extremely burned biscuits in front of my dad. I remember waiting to see if anyone noticed! Yet all my dad did was reach for his biscuit, smile at my mom and ask me how my day was at school. I don't remember what I told him that night, but I do remember watching him smear butter and jelly on that biscuit and eat every bite!

When I got up from the table that evening, I remember hearing my mom apologize to my dad for burning the biscuits. And I'll never forget what he said: "Honey, I love burned biscuits."

Later that night, I went to kiss Daddy good night and I asked him if he really liked his biscuits burned. He wrapped me in his arms and said, "Your Momma put in a hard day at work today and she's real tired. And besides - a little burnt biscuit never hurt anyone!"

You know, life is full of imperfect things.....and imperfect people. I'm not the best at hardly anything, and I forget birthdays and anniversaries just like everyone else.

What I've learned over the years is that learning to accept each others faults - and choosing to celebrate each others differences - is one of the most important keys to creating a healthy, growing, and lasting relationship.


Wendi said...

This post brought tears to my eyes. It reminds me of when Steve and I had been married only a month. I did not know how to cook, I did not grow up with someone showing me how to even make basic things.
I remember one evening I wanted to make him a special dinner, I made Steak. I did not know how to make steak at all. I cooked it until it was no longer pink and proudly served my meal to my family. Steve looked up at me and said, " Thank you for making us dinner"
As we ate, I could barely chew the steak because it was so overcooked. But as I watched my husband, he ate every single bite and never complained.

Jamie @ Six Bricks High said...

Love this, Jill! What an excellent reminder that a little grace and love goes a long way.

Jeanine said...

Love this post!
Imperfect meals is something my family has to deal with quite often and they don't complain...well...not TOO much, anyway!