Calling My Womanhood Into Question

On Saturday, Aubrey and I were going for a walk and Martin was working hard spreading manure. It was about 11:45 AM and I got a call from my dad.

Dad: What time are you going to have lunch ready for Martin? I was going to take over for him so he can eat.

keep in mind that, up until the posing of the question, what I was going to feed Martin for lunch had not even begun to cross my mind. (I had gone to a Goo Goo Dolls Concert the night before and used Aubrey's morning naptime as an opportunity for me to also catch up on some beauty sleep) But, not wanting to sound like I had absolutely nothing planned I responded,

I'll be ready in about fifteen minutes.

Then I turned around and raced back to my apartment with Aubrey. Not only had I not even thought about feeding Martin a lunch, I was also pretty sure that we were seriously lacking in food supply in our apartment. But, I really did not want to call my womanhood into question in front of my dad and say that I wasn't planning on feeding him anything and that I figured he could handle one day without lunch or that if worse came to worst we could bum food off my mom. There was no way I was going to utter those words to my dad.

So, I stepped it up. 15 minutes later, Martin was walking into our apartment just as I was walking out with a basket of food to set up on the picnic table. Hotdogs. All the fixings (I even cut up onions to put on the hotdogs). A salad (and, no, that is not a bagged salad but actually lettuce that I cut up and mixed with vegetables ok just tomatoes and threw in a bag.). Little tortilla strips for the salad and dressing. Chips and Salsa. Plates. Food for Aubrey (peas, cheerios and a bottle). And a pepsi to wash it all down.

To say I was on my high horse after this quick recovery from feelings of womanhood lacking would be an understatement. But I was quickly brought down to earth when I started to put my hotdog together and realized I had forgotten a fork for the relish. For a split second I actually tried to figure out how to get the relish out without a fork, not wanting to admit defeat and step down off the very high platform I had put myself on, but then I realized that there was absolutely no way we would be able to eat the salad and contain any shred of dignity without getting forks. So I sashayed back upstairs and got two forks, knocked down a peg or two by my forgetfullness on the utensil issue, but still proud of myself just the same.