We Said or Yes Dear?

Showcase Magazine February 2011

He Said

Well it finally happened. After knowing you for 46 years,
dating you for 12 years, being engaged for 10 years , you
finally agreed to marry me and now I can remember our
wedding date because we got married at 9 am on Christmas Eve.
How does that change for the readers? Probably not much
difference because we were always together anyway so our
lives were pretty much entwined. But how has it changed
for me since we got married? Am I allowed to say?. Before,
when I was single, I could just about get away with anything.
Now I have got to answer to someone else. That would be
you in case you are wondering. Since getting married I
have been given a list of things that I cannot write about.
I have been told there are certain limits to just about
any and everything that I do now. I am not saying that
marriage stagnates me, but let's just say I am not the
same man I was last month. I should mention at this point
that it is February , the month of love, so at this
point I should mention that I love my wife very much.
That would be you in case you forgot. I am being very
careful to stay on neutral ground here because I do
not want to get in trouble the in the first writing of
the first column since becoming wedded. (Is that a word?.)
So I hope I am still in your good graces and since the
marriage has lasted about a month and a few days, I
feel like we can stay married forever. I still think we
should call the column the same name but most of my
friends are telling me that we should change it to either
“WE SAID” or “YES DEAR”. What do you think, Honey?


She Said

What do I think? I think that from last month to this
month everything is the same except now we can wear the
rings that we bought ten years ago, that you locked in
your Bank Deposit box ten years ago , that I haven't
seen since ten years ago. We should have gotten married
if for anything, so that I could see my ring. Of course
I probably shouldn't tell the readers that you lost the
key and had to have your box drilled at the bank, costing
you big dollars you said, precluding us from going on a
honeymoon, unless you are counting supper at Sonic Burger.
All right I am just kidding about that part, you did take
me to Martinsville. Getting married to you in a private
ceremony was the only way I could figure to keep you from
cutting up at the wedding, eating too much cake, hugging
every woman in the church, and inviting all your friends
from Atlanta to New York. The time was right, the mood
was right, and honestly I had run out of excuses to give
you.(LOL). Now that we are married I have not given you
any new rules to abide by. I just expect you to follow
the old rules and keep obeying them or you will find
yourself writing this column with your sister.I like the
idea of marriage and you are a good man , who I am sure
with more guidance , you will make a wonderful husband.
I have done a pretty good job thus far of training you
and you are a pretty fast learner, although it normally
doesn't take me ten years to train a man. You offered more
resistance than I expected and a couple of times you
failed your exam. But you made up for it with extra points
in other categories, so I guess I will let you pass.
As you can see by passing the test you were allowed
to marry me. I want you to realize how lucky you are
to have someone that will put up with your lifestyle
(always busy), your habits(don't make me go there),
your stories(if I have to hear about that 1966 Fast
back Mustang one more time I will croak) and your
pickiness about food(a little ice in orange juice
and a lot of ice in soda.
So now I inherit all your picadello's and you just
get little ole plain me who never complains, is always
there for you , and loves to live only for you.
I think we should just name the column “Dena's Folly”,
that way the column can still be all about you.

Leftovers-to eat or not to eat

He Said by Larry Oldham

Is there anything worse than looking forward to
a pleasant evening meal after a hard day at work
and coming home to LEFTOVERS?
I really like to eat and I'm basically a
meat-and-potatoes man. I don't eat quiche;
I don't eat broiled meat; I don't eat casseroles.
And I especially don't eat leftovers. If it wasn't
good enough to be eaten the first time around, why
would I want to give it a second chance to taste better?
I'm more than willing to go out to dinner rather
than eat a repeat from the night before. Maybe
these feelings come from years ago when I would
clean out the refrigerator and find what appeared
to be a science project waiting to have mold tested.
I won't even eat bread if it's more than a couple of
days old. I calculate the price of a sandwich from a
restaurant and figure I'm way ahead even if I throw
away half a loaf. You've tried to fool me by serving
rerun vegetables, but I can always tell, so I just
leave them on my plate. Get the message?
The only exception that I'll make is spaghetti. After
the seasonings have settled overnight, it actually
tastes better the second time. Sometimes I'll even
eat leftover biscuits if they're toasted and oozing
with butter, but I have to close my eyes and hold my
nose so I won't miss the freshness.
I had an aunt and uncle who farmed and grew all of
their food and raised cows and pigs. She made homemade
biscuits, gravy, eggs, bacon and sausage every day for
breakfast. Lunch was meat, vegetables, bread and dessert.
Dinner was even more meat, potatoes, vegetables, homemade
bread and dessert. She cooked and canned all day long.
She wouldn't dream of serving leftovers; everything was
homegrown and the meat was always fresh, not frozen.
The French still eat that way today. They take two hours
for lunch and shop every day so their food is fresh.
Their refrigerators are small because they don't store
a lot of food. Maybe I should move to France so my palate
will be pampered in the same way.


She Said by Dena Hill


This may come as a big revelation to you, but my
favorite day of the week is LEFTOVER DAY.
I can come home from work, go for a walk, play
with the dog, watch TV or whatever my little heart
desires, instead of planning dinner, shopping for
ingredients, cooking, and cleaning up.
I never serve leftovers the very next day.
You get a break by having at least one or two
days in-between. Hopefully, by that time you've
forgotten that we had it before.
(Oops! You're taking notes, aren't you? )
I have a friend who puts all of her leftovers
for the week into one big bowl and on Friday nights,
she makes soup. It never tastes the same because
all of her meals were different, and the soup is delicious.
You say you don't like casseroles. You really don't
like any food that has more than three ingredients
in it. I probably should be glad because it doesn't
take much talent to fry chicken, grill steaks, and
bake potatoes. Oh yes, as long as the can opener
works, we'll have "fresh" vegetables.
Your aunt and uncle worked their farm from sun-up
until sundown and didn't leave to go to public jobs.
I leave at 7:30 and get home between 4:00 and 5:00,
so daily shopping is not an option. I have 30 minutes
for lunch, not two hours like the French. Our lifestyle
is so different from Europeans that if you really want
to compare apples to apples (no pun intended) then you
need to look at a culture of people where both partners
work and there are no maids, butlers, chauffeurs,
nannies, but ordinary working folks like us.
All things considered, leftovers once in a while
can be considered a mini vacation. Readers?

larry.oldham0@gmail.com