Cathy in the Wright

How It All Began...

Okay, Aelfheld, I'll save you the trouble of asking. :)

The first time I met my future in-laws was at a restaurant. The VP's folks and his brother met us there and we were seated at a large, round table in the back of the place. We could see the entire dining room, the beautiful view of the lake out the windows, and the door to the kitchen.

Wanting to impress my boyfriend's parents, I decided to show them how cosmopolitan...how adventurous I was by ordering something unique off the menu. Keep in mind, this is Minnesota; we don't venture too far off the beaten path. The menu didn't offer too much in the way of daring or thrill-seeking.

So I ordered duck. That's different. That's a bit unique. Everyone else was ordering fish or chicken or steak. I had duck once before at a Chinese restaurant, and it was delicious; a boneless breast of duck in some sauce that was terrific. Go for it. I saw my f-i-l raise his eyebrows a bit so I felt confident that I had made an impression.

Genial chatter continued after the orders were placed, and continued until I saw the kitchen door open. I had, from my seat, the best view of the kitchen door, and so I was the first one of our party to see our waitress walk through with a large tray destined for our table. And I knew it was for our table immediately. Because there...sticking up from one of the plates...was my duck.

Sounds stopped coming out of my mouth, but it was still hanging open. I watched in horror as the waitress approached. She was not bearing some petite duck breast with a side of steamed vegetables but an entire half a duck...leg and wing sticking a mile up off the plate and raised to even further heights by sitting on an enormous bed of wild rice.

The waitress put all the plates down, and I felt like Gulliver in the land of the Lilliputians. Everyone else had tiny little plates with tiny little meals. I had a carcass with which Christ could have fed the teeming masses without resort to miracles.

I don't even remember the rest of the meal. I stared at the dead waterfowl on my plate. I remember trying to carve off a bite or two...but this thing wasn't meant for a polite customer in a restaurant. This was something Grizzly Adams should have been ripping apart with bare hands.

My f-i-l was savoring every minute of my distress...committing every moment to memory when it could be hauled out to embarrass me again.

And he did. The next time I saw my future in-laws was at their house. I had been invited over for dinner. When we moved to the dining room after appetizers in the kitchen, f-i-l points the way and says, "Go ahead, Catherine, and have a seat. I think you'll know which chair is yours."

There was a wooden duck decoy sitting on the middle of my plate.

And thus the great f-i-l/d-i-l war began. We live to get each other.

Posted by Cathy at January 30, 2004 09:08 AM