Grill Therapy

The missus and I had a little miscommunication last weekend that had me a little miffed.

It wasn’t that big a deal but it bugged me. Right after the exchange I headed out to the grill; the plan anyway was for me to cook, so I had a built-in retreat.

The kids were inside playing, the wife had headed out as was her plan, and I was in the backyard alone with the grill.

I worked the hot dogs and sausages over the grid that covered the red-hot coals, moving them constantly so they wouldn’t burn. As I rotated them around, the thoughts of my petty annoyance mellowed. I knew it wasn’t a big deal; the perceived slight wasn’t intentional. I was over attached to the situation, as often happens.

In a few minutes I felt much better. And the grub was about done. I lined them up for a final minute.

As I wrapped up the cooking and got dinner together for the kids, I felt a lot better. It hadn’t taken long, but I had to go through the process of feeling and sorting and coming to close on my own.

It helped that my wife let me know shortly after that — as I’d assumed — she’d not intended the slight. Felt good to get back on track in any event.

And the old bbq served me well once again: in the cooking, and the time spent therein. GOOD.

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