Day 351: An Attempt at Loving Others

December 14, 2012

There’s a 90-year-old lady who comes to our church, who’s friendly and caring, and who lives alone in a retirement community. She has some family in the area, but I don’t think they visit her often. I thought that it would be good, given her situation, to have her over to our house for dinner on Thursday as one of my/our acts of love for those in our community. I had been in contact with her about coming over, so Thursday was our planned time. But I couldn’t get ahold of her that day and I didn’t know where exactly she lived. So the dinner didn’t work out.

Instead, when we dropped our kids off at a church function later in the evening, I took you out to Flavor of India, a local restaurant that you’d been begging me to take you to. The food was outstanding and we both had an excellent time. Our server was super cool. He told us about India, including its culture and religion, and about the exotic land of Detroit, where his sister lives and is expecting a baby.

I’m super excited to go back there during lunch when they have their buffet. Although I enjoyed the food, it would be nice to have a bigger selection so we could sample all the different flavors of India.


Day 282: Your Favorite Dinner

July 21, 2012

Your favorite dinner is my fried chicken, mashed potatoes, and gravy. It’s my mom’s recipe. I’ve offered to teach you how to make it, but you claim that I make it so well no one can duplicate it. So, whenever we want fried chicken, I’m the chef. I don’t mind. I like that this dinner is a sort of special contribution of mine to our family life. Maybe when we’re 70, I’ll still be making you this.

PS: I like that you put gravy on your vegetables. Why go halfway, right?


Day 275: Alone Time

July 10, 2012

I made dinner for us on Friday. When it came time to eat, the kids were playing upstairs in their room and I decided to let them stay there so we could eat dinner together alone. After we ate, I called them down so they could eat.

This act wasn’t extravagant, but I enjoyed it very much. It’s so great to spend time with you.


Day 197: The Die Game, Continued Still

April 16, 2012

For this act, I told you I would do whatever chore you chose for me, which was one of the prizes from the game we played the other night. You said, “How about a back massage?” “That’s not a chore,” I replied. “It is to you,” you jabbed jokingly. “No, I mean a real chore. What chore do you want me to do?” “What if you make dinner on Monday when we get back from the church retreat?” In my mind, I started asking questions like “Is making dinner considered a chore?” and “What conditions must something satisfy to qualify as a chore?” Since I couldn’t answer those questions and I’d already denied your first request, I agreed to make Monday’s dinner.

I’m not sure if I ruined the game by giving you (or letting you claim) nearly every prize that you could’ve won, but who cares.


Day 188: Giving You Rest

April 7, 2012

Sometimes when I come home from work, you’re full of energy and cheerful, but other times, you’re frazzled and frustrated. Tuesday was one of the latter times. For my act of love, then, I watched the kids, made dinner, then put the kids to bed while you lay on our bed reading a book. You were tremendously grateful.


Day 182: Loving Others #2

March 30, 2012

One of our friends feeds the homeless every Wednesday at a park in Santa Barbara. We joined him this week, putting feet to my vision that we’d work together to help others.

We brought cookies, but there was also pizza, mandarins, carrots, and water. Maybe 30 people lined up to receive food and we enjoyed serving them.

Our five-year-old daughter was excited about feeding the homeless until we got there. Then she was nervous. Still, we told her to hand out cookies. Once things got going and everyone politely thanked her for the cookies, she began enjoying herself. At one point, she even leaned over to me and whispered, “Things are really turning out well!”

The evening did turn out well: we met some kind people that we were able to help. I hope we do it again.


Day 91: Romantic Dinner #2

December 29, 2011

For my 91st act of love, I treated you to a romantic dinner in our home. I planned on making the dinner myself, but work got in the way so we shared the responsibility. We made crockpot pork loin, potatoes, and vegetables.

Last time we had a romantic dinner, our kids ate with us. This time, I did what I could to make sure it was just the two of us (there’s only so much you can control with a baby in the house). At 8, we put the kids to bed and (wonder of wonders!) the baby fell asleep too. I then set the table up with your flowers for the week (which I’ve been consistently buying, but not blogging about), a candle, and our dinner. I also set the computer to play the 10 songs I bought you from your iTunes wish list (at that point, you didn’t know I bought them).

We started eating dinner and the music started playing. “Do you recognize this song?” I asked. “Yeah, I know this song.” We continued eating. When the next song came on I asked, “How about this one?” “Yeah, this song’s good.” By the third song, you began to wonder why I was asking: “Did you buy some songs from my wish list or something?” “Yes, I did!” “You went through all that trouble for little ol’ me?!” you replied in a slightly Southern accent. (I had to retrieve the wish list from an external hard drive, so it wasn’t simply a click of the button.) “Yeah, I did it because I like ya.” You started tearing up and thanked me. Who knew you’d like that act so much?

After dinner, I brought out a piece of cheescake for us to share. I started to feed you the dessert myself, being mockingly romantic. But I pushed the fork too far in your mouth and made you gag. After laughing that one off, I let you feed yourself. When we finished our dessert, we enjoyed each other’s company on the couch for a few minutes. Then, our baby woke up. So the three of us enjoyed each other’s company.

Later in the evening, our four-year-old daughter called me up to her room. She asked, “So, did I hear something about a romantic dinner?” “Yes.” Then she asked in an accusatory tone, “Are you going to a restaurant without me?!” “Ha ha! No, we already ate our romantic dinner . . . What’s a romantic dinner, sweetie?” “I don’t know,” she said as she shrugged her shoulders and laid back down to go to sleep.

With a great ambience, 3 sleeping kids, and a nice dinner and dessert, I’d say romantic dinner #2 was a success.