Women’s Night Off

It came our turn to host a neighborhood group of five couples that met each month. Each couple (woman) would bring a part of the meal.  My cerebral cortex had evidently evolved sufficiently from primordial homo sapiens to conceive the idea of giving the women the night off. Marsha loved it. She wouldn’t have to worry about the main course. I emailed the women: “You, have the night off Sunday. Just come wearing your prettiest dress.” I emailed the guys: “Please meet me at the Supermart Saturday noon. We’re in charge of the Sunday meal.”  

I handed each bewildered guy a list: “Keith, you’re doing barbequed “weenies.” (Colloquial Kansan) Get two bags of Oscar Meyer baby weenies and two large jars of Sweet Baby Ray’s BBQ sauce.” In about the time it would take a sloth to climb a tall tree, they all eventually showed up at check out with their items.  I said: “Come to my house at 4:00 p.m. tomorrow and we’ll prepare the meal.” 

At 4:00 Sunday, each guy got step-by-step instructions: “Keith, dump the weenies into the crock pot and pour the BBQ sauce on top of them.” At 5:30, they went home to clean up, put on a white shirt and tie, and return with bride.  

At 7:00 p.m. each husband as per prior instruction, seated his bride, laid her napkin in her lap and ask for her choice of drink, all with proper waiter demeanor. Grace was said, warm plates served: lobster tail, sauteed green beans, mashed potatoes, plus gourmet salad, warm chocolate cake.  

All evening the guys received high praise. Keith especially received great kudos for his barbequed weenies.  Never had the ladies felt so special, and never had the guys felt so proud of themselves.