I read something (likely in a medical journal*) where it said that the first meal that is prepared by one partner for their significant other sets the tone for their entire relationship.
This cannot be good.
After I was settled into my new house the summer I started dating The Guy, I invited him over for supper. I thought it would be the perfect first meal -- simple, manly, not too many vegetables. I had fresh steak (bought from a friend's husband who grows cows), garden potatoes (not my garden) and corn on the cob.
I fired up the barbeque -- confident in my capabilities as an independent woman! -- and got everything ready to cook. I wrapped up the potatoes (sliced thinly and covered in spices) and corn in foil and got them ready for the fire. Everything was going smoothly.
It was a really hot summer. Like old people dying in the shade hot summer. My little house with no air-conditioning was not going to work for dinner. So, I set up for a romantic dinner outside. Plastic chairs, an old table from my mom's sewing room, and my finest dinnerware. It was crass, but there was a breeze. I put on a flirty little dress and waited for my company to arrive.
The Guy arrived in perfect timing. He brought me flowers (I think, but can't remember. It sounds good though, right?) and commented on my dress. Everything was going as planned.
That's when I smelled smoke.
I ran out to the barbeque and found most of the steaks in flames. The handy spray water bottle I kept beside the barbeque just for times like this was put to use and the steaks were salvageable. Much like my mother's rule, fire meant supper was done!
As we sat down for supper, The Guy sawing into his burned steak and grinning madly, I knew he was one I was going to have to keep.
Especially because he still had that grin when we found out the potatoes were still raw.
* We have a friend who tells us about things she's read. Her defense has often been that she read it in a medical journal. Thus, it is fact. Thus, we tease her mercilessly.