Paying attention

Another day, another cold cut sandwich – another assault. This time, I let Jasper have a morsel of the bread. I don’t think he ate it, but he did play with it, and so I was able to dine in peace.

We snuggled later.

♦ ♦ ♦ ♦ ♦

The strongest objector to the wedding has been Karin’s dad. (In his defense: when Karin & I became engaged, he didn’t even know what my last name was.) But, lately, he’s been warming to our decision.

Last week, he gave us supper, twice.

The first time, we ate chicken wings. Karin’s dad told us a story about how he brought Hungarian soup to work, to share. He was afraid no one would like the soup; but once the sour cream was stirred in, his colleagues liked it fine.

The second time, we ate fried chicken.

Again Karin’s dad related the Hungarian soup story. “I thought everyone would hate the soup,” he told us. “But they all took leftovers home with them.” “Well,” I pointed out, “what the soup needed was a little sour cream.”

Karin’s dad looked at me curiously. “Yes,” he said. “Sour cream does help Hungarian soup.”

Karin was delighted. (Though, at the time, she didn’t show it.)