My husband’s cousin is having an engagement ceremony tonight. It’s pouring down rain outside and as much as I like his cousin and his aunt, the kids and I aren’t going. We weren’t really invited anyway. The bride had a death in her family recently so it’s bad manners to have a big celebration when there are family members still in mourning. I like the respect aspect of this. So no hurt feelings here. My husband went to stand by his cousin while they recite the Fatiha (the first verse of the Holy Quran) and discuss the wedding contract, etc and when the wedding will take place.

For me and for the kids, this is culinary specialty night: We get to eat SPAGHETTI and EGGPLANT! Woo hoo. See my husband loathes spaghetti and eggplant. We NEVER get to eat it when he’s home. Sure, we have pasta and occasionally I’ll make a small tray of mousaka when I want to eat it….but I always make pastitsio for him because of his chronic case of nausea brought on by the mention of the word eggplant. I love him. So I’m okay with it. But on night’s when he eats at a relative’s house (like tonight), I hand the boys a 10-pound note and send them off to the nearest grocer for 2 packages of spaghetti noodles and a jar of tomato paste!

And tonight, we’ll be slurping up big ole long noodles of spaghetti heaven and chowing on pickled eggplant stuffed with cilantro, garlic and hot peppers. YUMMMYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY!

And when he comes home late tonight, I’ll have a nice supper of fava beans, felafel and boiled eggs and cheese waiting for him. And he won’t be grossed out and we’ll have scratched our spaghetti itch. Win, win!