Parmesan Pasta

It's a flavor of that boxed pasta roni stuff.  It's total crap for you- filled with fat and calories and a lot of stuff that isn't real food. (Don't read anything about the things that are in processed food...trust me, ignorance is bliss).  Quite frankly, it's delicious, and we eat it occasionally at my house.  It's convenient and quick and I like that.  We are about to have it for lunch with some baked chicken.

I never even knew it existed until I started dating Jimmy (I use the term "dating" loosely.  If you know our story, you know what I mean).  I remember one night, one very late night I'm sure, we were at his dad's house, hungry and he said he'd cook us some parmesan pasta.  I even remember him telling me how to wiggle the fork to stir the noodles so that they wouldn't stick together.  I sat on the counter while he stirred these noodles, having no clue that in 11 years from then, I would be cooking it for his children.

Since that night, he has cooked me countless meals.  Meals that were amazing and romantic like a surprise steak dinner, or meals that I loved because it meant I didn't have to cook and he was helping lessen my load.  Meals that didn't work out so well at times, like burgers that weren't cooked enough.  Eleven years of us each cooking meals for each other.  Eleven years of fights, and stress, and crisis after crisis, right alongside love, and joy and friendship.

I teared up a little while I was making the pasta today, thinking of  memory that had long been forgotten.  I will enjoy many more meals with my husband, but that one, innocent meal will stick with me forever.