shaking the money tree

I rushed home Thursday evening, ran to the bedroom and grabbed a change of clothes. My husband and I were in a rush to be on our way to a Bill Gaither concert in Monroe. I barely had time to change clothes, let alone deal with an evening meal before leaving.
I was yanking clothes off hangars when my husband said, “There are sandwiches fixed for supper.”
Food – ready to go? I shoved my arm in my shirt sleeve and went to the kitchen.
“Hmmm, grapes would be good to take,” I reached for them.
“Uh-uhhh. Leave those alone. I need to make a fruit salad for myself,” my daughter said. You have fruit salad already.”
She handed me a box lunch in sealed plastic boxes all neatly arranged inside a larger plastic box. We had tortilla wrap sandwiches, banana bread, fruit salad and vegetable sticks.
I have never had it so good. When I agreed to work until 5, I said I would increase her allowance, if she would fix supper. With the promise that the money tree would drop a few more leaves, she got to work.
Her first week as chef, she haunted my bedroom, recipe book in hand, seeking suggestions, asking questions and making lists of ingredients to buy.
The first snag hit the evening her friend watched as she fixed supper. Her menu included a salad with boiled eggs. We don’t’ have boiled eggs very often so she lacked experience boiling a pan of eggs.
My daughter watched the eggs boil. “Mom said to boil them a couple of minutes.”
“That’s not long enough. They should boil at least 5 minutes.”
Two minutes or five, didn’t matter, the eggs were gooey inside.
“Don’t you even know how to boil an egg?”
“I know how to cook. I just don’t know how to boil eggs, do you?”
“Well, no, but it’s longer than that.”
She added more eggs and boiled them all 15 minutes. Some were done. Others weren’t She boiled them again until all of them were ready to be shelled.
As she cracked eggs to loosen the shells, one friend asked, “What are you doing that for?”
“To take the shells off the eggs. We don’t eat them, do you?”
For supper we had salad with no eggs shells, meat loaf and seasoned mixed vegetables.
About halfway through her first week of planning preparing and presenting the family dinner, my daughter said, “I like cooking. You should have made me cook before.”
I tried. She has made desserts, salads and casseroles, but I have always planned and prepared most of the meals.
The second week she was chef, my sister visited. I told my sister I had to work all day, but I assured her fixing supper was my daughter’s job.
My daughter is the perfect hostess or her aunt is the perfect guest. Thursday we had steak.
“Kind of pink, isn’t it?” I asked.
She started to go cook it more, when my sister said, “that’s the way I like it.”
I shut up and ate my steak. Except for that steak, having supper ready when I come home has been worth every penny I pay to get her to make it.