We went over to my sister-in-law’s for a lovely Father’s Day barbecue.
Beautiful weather. Good company. Family everywhere. The promise of grilled food in the air.
You know what wasn’t in the air?
Our steaks.
The steaks we had carefully marinated for over a day.
The steaks we were supposed to bring.
The steaks that were, at that exact moment, sitting at home in the fridge, probably judging us.
Who goes to a barbecue and forgets the meat?
Me.
Apparently.
Now, in our defense, we did remember the salad. We remembered the drinks. We remembered ourselves, which honestly felt like a win at the time.
But the actual main part of the barbecue?
Nope.
Just left it behind like it was optional.
There was a brief moment where we thought we might have to do the walk of shame to the nearest grocery store and buy emergency barbecue meat. Which, let’s be honest, would have been a very on-brand Father’s Day adventure for us.
Fortunately, my sister-in-law had enough food for everyone because she is clearly a more responsible adult than I am.
The evening ended up being wonderful. There was lots of great food, plenty of laughs, and no one made us stand outside holding a sign that said, “We forgot the steaks.”
And then came my favourite part.
Dessert.
Because no matter what else happens, no matter what you forget, no matter how close you come to being the people who show up to a barbecue without the barbecue…
Dessert makes everything better.
The marinated steaks, however, are still at home.
Waiting.
All the best,
Tia
