Quinn, Santana, Cutting Boards, and Crying Chronicles
A little late to the game, on this conversation, but I never understood the Glee hype. I had heard of the show numerous times and had seen an episode or two in passing, but never hopped on the bandwagon. When my fiancée learned this about me, she was honestly in disbelief. Like all of the other Gleeks out there, she felt that it was blasphemous for me to not have experienced the cinematic magnet that is Glee. She had asked me to watch it a few times, and while I had already seen a few episodes in the past, I really couldn’t remember enough about it to not want to see it. I was open to it, but not really excited per se. Eventually, I randomly decided that I wanted to watch it and so we did. We began our glorious binge-a-thon, and I became fully enthralled in the plot, at times not caring a bit about the songs being sung.
As many who have watched enough Glee know, once you reenter the real world there are certain songs that you will automatically associate to Glee when you hear them. For me, one of those songs is Take My Breath Away by Quinn and Santana, *cough* I mean by Berlin. As I was getting ready to start cooking, Take My Breath Away was an earworm. I found myself continuously humming it and as is ritual for me, I began to play music once I got into the kitchen. “Alexa, play Take My Breath Away by GLEE CAST”. Specifically yearning for the Glee version, I was pleasantly entertained when Alexa began playing the proper version of the song since she tends to listen when she wants to.
As Santana and Quinn’s soft lulls of Take My Breath Away permeated the kitchen’s space I began to rinse the sweet potatoes that I had planned to cook for dinner. They had been in the pantry for a while and the last time I made regular potatoes Kennedy expressed her disappointment that I had not cooked the sweet potato, as those are her preferred spuds. With that in mind, I began my morning as I do most, planning what I would make for dinner and taking out the necessary meats from the freezer.
Rinsed and not quite ready to ravish, I began peeling the sweet potatoes over a cutting board I had placed on the counter. There was some delightful ASMR occurring with each swipe of the vegetable peeler, but I was still fully invested in the song playing in the background. As I peeled my sweet potatoes and listened to my Glee song, I became misty eyed and my sinuses flared delicately. This is all because of you, I thought to myself. I was listening to the Glee cast because I had watched the show in an effort to bond with Kennedy and really enjoyed it. I was peeling sweet potatoes because I knew that they would make her happy. As this small realization washed over me, I began crying harder.
My evening kitchen ritual was an ode to our relationship and an act of love. Kennedy takes care of me in many ways and one of the ways I take care of her is by cooking dinner mostly every day and sometimes breakfast on weekends when she’s sleeping in. Our kitchen, as tight and compact as it may be, with its smaller than average stove and make-shift storage, is a place where I go to not only feed myself but to act in service of Kennedy. I look forward to her tasting my meals and yumming with satisfaction as she dances around in her seat.
While there are days when I may not really want to cook or don’t really know what I’m going to cook, I try to find a way to make it something that she will enjoy and be grateful for. Cooking is not always fun, but I know that food is one of the many glues that keep Kennedy and I together. We both love food and eating and although I definitely cook a lot more than her, I know that she tries her best when it's her turn to sport the apron. I can admit that there are days when cooking feels more habitual than a labor of love, but there are also days like this when I am reminded of how special it can be to be in this kitchen cooking for a woman I love.
While “acts of service” are definitely a love language, the act of serving up some bomb ass food (whether cooked or purchased), specifically, is one of ours. When lost in the mundanity, and possibly, the irritability of your daily routine, taking a moment to search for and appreciate the “why” can be extremely reassuring. And although this specific moment of gratitude found me, I can easily take the time to find it if I wished. Q
