Our daughter-in-law, who is Lebanese, speaks very good English. She has one of those slight accents, the kind you love to hear, a bit like a melody to the ear.
Of course, I live in Missouri, so just about everyone I meet has some sort of accent.
She creates some mouth watering dishes and when they were all visiting last summer – I asked if she could treat us to a day of her delicious Lebanese food.
Picture it – here is the whole scene, exactly how it played out, (as I remember it…)
Our sunroom is buzzing with conversation and laughter, and in the middle of our babble, she makes the announcement –
“I’m going to marry Nate, the chicken.”
The room fell silent, as this news soaked in. Every befuddled eye in the room was on her.
The voice in my head began to channel Betty White, “well, that’s odd, we do have chickens, but, none of them are named Nate…”
So – for obvious reasons, I said, “huh?”
She kindly repeated,
“I am going to marry Nate, the chicken.”
Insert a long pause here…
A pause that gave me the opportunity to look around the room, every pair of eyes held a different expression.
Looking at our son first (her husband) his expression seemed to say – “Fine, go ahead, marry Nate, the chicken, if that is what makes you happy.”
Our daughter’s husband’s was saying – “What the heck??, Did she just say what I thought she said???” without moving his lips.
As our daughter tossed her hair – I could almost hear her whispering – “I’m not one to judge, if she wants to marry Nate the chicken, I’m good with that.”
My husband…. well never mind him…. his hearing sailed long ago, and with her sitting on the side of his “bad” ear, he never heard any of it.
My inner Betty White was getting defensive – “Why Nate? What does he have that my chickens don’t have? Did she even consider marrying any of my chickens? Why would she choose this Nate over my chickens?”
After reading all the expressions in the room, I couldn’t let it rest, so I pleaded – one more time, “What are you saying?”
She tilted her head and began to show some slight frustration… “what is wrong with these people, why do they keep asking me to repeat this… ” and for the 3rd and final time, she slowly repeats,
“I. am. going. to. marry. Nate. the. chicken….!!”
Finally, with a grin, she stands up and goes into the kitchen – leaving us, all shaking our heads.
While she is out of the room, I ask our son, “Did you know anything about this chicken named Nate…? He shrugs….
We all look up at her as she re-enters the room –
In one hand, she is holding a zip lock bag full of raw chicken and in her other, she has marinade sauce….
Thank you to my fabulous family for the ability to laugh at ourselves!
I would sure appreciate it if you would share this site with your family and friends!
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