Yuck-cumbers And Omelets

Yuck-cumbers and Omelets

Three things will last forever—faith, hope, and love—and the greatest of these is love.

1 Corinthians 13:13

I think I’ll cook us an omelet,” my husband, Larry, announced one Saturday morning. He tossed off the covers and headed downstairs.

What a treat for me! I am ordinarily the cook, so it was a luxury to have someone else fixing the meal. I love a nice omelet, chock-full of fresh veggies like onions and green peppers and maybe some cheddar cheese.

With anticipation, my son and I pulled up our chairs to the table.

“Boy, this looks delicious,” I said with gusto. “What did you put in it?”

My husband replied, “Why don’t you try it and see?”

Uh-oh. That particular comment might be a bad sign. He tended toward weird cooking ideas. Lovingly, yet truthfully, I acknowledged Larry’s breakfast effort might challenge my wifely wisdom.

My son and I looked at each other across the table with concern as we brought our forks to our mouths. Both of us wanted to thank the cook for cooking. Both of us, however, are honest.

Unbelievable! Yuck. Cooked cucumbers! It was worse than I had imagined. My son was trying to keep that nice, I-love-omelets look, but I could see the tension in his face.

Aha. I’ll redeem the moment. I began with a twist of discretion: “Did you put cucumbers in it?” I added a dot of truth with my less-than-thrilled tone.

Next, I tossed in a hint of humor—a smile for my son—followed by a dash of love: “Honey, thank you for making breakfast.” And, finally, another dollop of truth finished it—a lot of omelet remained on our plates. I realized with satisfaction that I had managed successful love navigation.

To spare us further torture, I mentally planned a future “yuck-cumber” discussion.

—Diane E. Kay

Lord, remind me to be a blessing, even when it is not my first inclination. May your love direct the moments of my days. Amen.