Thankful: Messed up lasagna

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Every year in November, I try to post on Facebook a daily expression of my thankfulness. This year, I’ve decided to go one step further and blog daily with these thankful posts. Considering how overwhelmed I’ve been lately, I thought this series would do one of two things. First, it would force me to write every day which is a source of therapy for me. Secondly, it would help me focus on all the wonderful things and people I have in my life.

Years ago, I made lasagna. It was the first time I’d ever tried to make it instead of opening a freezer section box and throwing it in the oven.

Math Man stood behind me and watched. He swears he was just curious. That’s not how it felt to me.

Let me give you some context: when I am working on something, especially if it’s new to me or difficult, please leave me alone.

For instance, please don’t cheer me on when I’m running.

I already hate that I’m out there sweating — ew, sweat — and exerting energy. I don’t need anyone to remind me that I’m spending 40+ minutes of my life torturing myself.

And when I’m doing a math problem that makes me think — whether it’s a literal algebraic equation or simply trying to figure out how to double a recipe — just let me think. Don’t look at me. Don’t encourage me. Just give me the space.

So on this night when I was preparing the lasagna, I was pouring over the recipe, and Math Man was watching me.

“Go away!” I yelled at him.

It was the first time he’d seen this side of me. We hadn’t been married very long.

I finished the recipe. I put the pan in the oven. It cooked.

What I pulled out looked hideous. I just knew it was ruined. I just knew that I’d wasted all that food.

At the table, I waited for Math Man and Miss Sassy Pants to tell me that it was undercooked or overcooked or not tasty at all.

You know what they said instead? It was the best lasagna they’d ever had. And they meant it.

So today, I’m thankful for messed up lasagna. We had it again tonight to host my parents and my aunt who is in town from across the country. Again, it was met with rave reviews.

I’m thankful that my family loves me enough to eat what I make regardless of how it looks. And I’m thankful that we have this funny, inside joke and story to share.

Have you ever made a recipe that you expected to turn out awful but instead turned out perfectly?
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