Saturday Family Tradition
Every Saturday, my husband’s parents, siblings, and nieces arrived for lunch.
It had become a tradition years earlier.
I planned the menu.
I bought the groceries.
I cooked the meals.
I baked desserts.
Everyone praised my husband’s hospitality, even though most of the work happened long before anyone rang the doorbell.
This Saturday was different.
The Labels
Before our guests arrived, I placed discreet labels on everything I had purchased.
The roasting pan.
The serving platters.
The salad bowl.
The blender.
The coffee maker.
Even the dining table centerpiece.
Nothing was hidden.
Nothing was exaggerated.
Every label simply read:
Purchased by Me.
