A Stranger in my Kitchen

Over the past week, I've been on limited duty - not quite bed rest, but not active duty. It brought back a memory of my mother-in-law (MIL). She died shortly after we were married but the short relationship I had with her made a mark and I often think of her and the struggle she endured. On one visit she was confined to the bed. All through her marriage she had cooked spaghetti with meat sauce for her husband on Monday nights.

We happened to be visiting on a Monday and I offered to make the spaghetti dinner. With my MIL upstairs in bed, she directed me on how to make her spaghetti sauce. She told me which dish to use for each step, how much of each spice to use as well as where everything was located.

Fast foward to this week. As I was resting in bed or on the couch, I watched as my husband cared for our daughter and prepared meals for us. I tried my best to bite my tongue and let him do it his way because he knows what he is doing.

So why do I feel the need to walk him through everything?