The snow is softy falling in big lazy flakes in the first true snowfall of the season. Before taking my youngest son to hockey and while the others were out shoveling and snow blowing, I put the ham in the oven, so it was perfect for when we came home. Then in went the scalloped potatoes and the carrots for roasting while I peeled the apples and made the pastry for the Pie I was making.
The Eastern conference NFL clincher is on TV and there is a wonderful fire crackling in the hearth that my spouse made for me. The crisp scent of a new snowfall is overpowered by the delicious kitchen aromas wafting through the house; cinnamon, chives, smoked meat and brown sugars. I am curled on the sofa sipping a coffee with Baileys waiting for the ding that tells me my pie is finished, with the dogs curled in the bend of my knee.
It’s a beautiful and peaceful kind of day, filled with Grace and thankfulness for everything I am blessed with in my life.
Of course, like any ‘good wife’, who cooks, bakes and loves football, I offered my husband a blow job at half time but he politely declined in favor of puttering between upstairs and down. Not too sure what was more important or interesting than a Sunday afternoon blowjob while watching football, but apparently there is something. I let him know that had that offer been made to a thousand other men, I am pretty sure 99.9% of them may have accepted. But what do I know? I am only making assumptions on what I “think” most men might want.