So, it was pasta. And looks like he's eating. And, guess what, he's cooking it, too.
I was on my way to the kitchen (Promise!) when Hope Floats started as Sunday night's movie. Harry Connick Jr.'s rendition of More moves me, and watching his movie, I suppose, is my way of paying respect. More brings back memories of Mom singing it while playing the guitar. That was the only song she knew how to play with an instrument, and the only song I could sing without getting off-key.
Watching now, I could almost imagine Mom kicking me in the arse for letting my hubby cook after work. As a house rule, Tyrone doesn't cook on his work days. His days off, which also happen to be mine (For the lack of a real honeymoon, we have to spend his days off together.), are my days off from cooking. So you see, right now, I'm breaking a very important rule.
*poof!*
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