My talents abound

So Chessa hands me the bag of organic CSA green beans that we have been hoarding for almost 3 weeks, and says, "here you go." I cut the ends, steamed them, buttered, salted, and served them on a plate. What does she say? "Kitty, dad doesn't get to cook dinner anymore." I don't think she properly appreciates the degree of perfection of those green beans. Not just anyone could have steamed them perfectly. AND I buttered each bean individually, for her. No respect, I tell you, no respect. It's almost as though she wanted something BESIDES green beans for dinner. How am I to know? Am I a mind reader? I offered to make her toast. Some people are never happy!

On the other hand, we just watched the movie Serenity. I think it might be the start of a new film series. They hit just the right notes, getting the characters just right, and covering a lot of ground well, but not repetitively for those fans of "Firefly" the tv series.

For someone who didn't like her dinner, she's certainly taking her damn sweet time eating it (savoring it, perhaps?)