I never claimed to be prompt. I am definitely my father’s daughter—fashionably late wherever I go, constantly procrastinating on projects and chores, easily getting sidetracked. Mel blames his perpetual tardiness on ‘tinkering.’ John is a tinkerer—just as we’re about to head out the door, he decides to change the windshield wipers, or fix the sink, or ‘tinker’ with something. John is a tinkerer and I am his daughter. The problem, however, is that while John tried to balance things out by marrying Mel—a non-tinkerer, someone who tries to be on time—I chose someone even worse than me. What they say must be true… the one about girls choosing guys that are like their fathers.
I got Evan a BBQ for Christmas last year.
After he unwrapped it, it sat (in the box) at my apartment for 2 months.
Then he finally took it to his apartment….
Where it sat (in the box) for 6 months.
Then we moved in together in August.
Week one he put the box on the balcony.
Week two he opened the box, and took out the pieces.
By the end of September, he finally had the BBQ assembled.
In mid-October, he got a propane tank.
This week, we finally used the BBQ….and only 11 months after we got it!
For the inaugural run, we grilled simple but satisfying pork chops rubbed with seasoning salt, onions, and homemade bread that we sliced and rubbed with garlic and olive oil.
While I may have inherited the unfortunate tinkering gene from John, I hope that I also inherited the best-BBQ-master-in-the-world-gene too. The man can cue- and we’re not just talking the typical dad style summer burger blow outs—my family lights the grill year round, rain or shine, wind or snow; steaks or salmon, chicken or squash, crab or pizza. You name it, we grill it. Now here’s to hoping that Evan and I can master Jonh’s prowess at the grill, and leave the procrastinating to far less delicious pursuits- like doing laundry.