After I gave Previously-at-Risk-of-Becoming-Formerly-my-Biggest-Supporter-but-Suddenly-in-Danger-of-Becoming-a-Naysayer Melissa R. (you can just call her P.A.R.O.B.F.M.B.S.B.S.I.D.O.B.A.N. Melissa R. for short) a hard time for not being appropriately supportive enough last week, she decided to redeem herself and revive her status as my biggest supporter by baking for me this week. And to be honest, our relationship works best when she’s the one cooking for me.
I met Melissa five years ago when David and I bought the house across the street from her and her husband, Jon. One day not long after we moved in, I looked out the window and saw David chatting them up on the street. Fearing the worst, I rushed out to make sure he wasn’t soliciting our new neighbors to help him burn down the abandoned house next door to us. He was. Jon was more than eager to help. Too eager. A bromance was born. Melissa and I, on the other hand, consummate mature, adult, professionals that we are, scoffed at them and then made a date to watch Desperate Housewives and gossip about our neighbors. A lady-mance was born.
Then one day David went out of town. While he was gone, Melissa brought me cupcakes. And cookies. And definitely cake, my favorite. Yum. When David returned from his trip he asked what I ate while he was gone.
I kind of fudged and hedged before answering… “Cupcakes. Cookies. Cake.” I smiled.
David travels pretty extensively for work and I’m left to fend for myself for days and weeks at a time, oh woe is me. And back then, before three weeks ago when I learned how to cook, unless the house was stocked to the gills with cheese and crackers I…mostly….didn’t…eat.
So we had to have what can really only be described as a family meeting with Melissa. “Look, whatever you feed her while I’m gone is all she’ll eat; please feed her more than cake.” I took total exception to this, because I love cake so goddamn much and really wished David hadn’t rained on that little parade, but Melissa now had a de facto responsibility to keep me alive, and she’s been feeding me ever since. But, since we’re the real grownups in our marriages and we’ve never conspired to burn down a house (that you know of), she still treats me to cake every time. Take that, David!
So for zucchini week, really before the week even started, she showed up with freshly baked zucchini bread, all moist and cake-y and delicious and yummy. Zucchini was won before the week even started, because it was in cake.
And she made me dinner last night, too. Zucchini, in. Melissa, in.