The Cross Legged Man

Oh gosh, the beginning years of a marriage and I decided to have my family (my sister, her husband Dave and their two children Kate and Mandy) join my husband and I and our two children for dinner. My plan was to make individual calzones tailored to everyone who came. After getting everyone's "order", I shopped for the ingredients and purchased some pre-made pizza dough from the store as well.
Spending the day in the kitchen I prepared the sauce and ingredients for everyone's calzone. Right before they all arrived the dough was rolled and filled accordingly. I covered the calzones with towels after laying them on sheet pans.
There was one snag - at that time I had a much smaller oven and not enough sheet pans to bake them all at once. Not the best planning. Of course I made the ones for my invited family first, my children next and lastly for my husband and me. It was the worst "dinner" party I ever did! My guests had their food which I encouraged them to start eating and my husband and I got ours last.
By this time my husband was hungry and cranky. To boot, the dough had sat so long that it had toughened up and when baked did not come out like the first ones served. It was still edible, the flavors inside were fine however it was someone difficult to cut into.
Showing his extreme disappointment, my husband did not eat much of his and sat at the end of the table - arms crossed and his legs folded wearing a frown. It did not go unnoticed by my family. Fast forward and we were married for a few years and invited to join my sister and Dave for dinner to celebrate either an anniversary or a birthday at a restaurant that had a good reputation for food.
All of us ordered our dinners and my husband ordered some sort of scallop and pasta dish. When the dinners arrived and we began to eat, I asked what is that smell? It turned out to be coming from the plate in front of my husband. It was not a pleasant smell. Needless to say my husband took a few polite bites and then sat cross legged in his chair, arms folded.
As my sister, Dave and myself exchanged glances we noted that there was also a slight frown. They offered to ask the waitress to come and exchange his dinner but he refused. The night as far as he was concerned was ruined and he would not shake it off.
That crossed legged carried over into golf - whenever my husband was torqued about his game he would sit in the cart, arms and legs crossed. Between my brother-in-law Dave and other golfing partners noticing, my husband could not escape some friendly teasing. Apparently he got teased often!
So now the benchmark as to whether I have served a good dinner versus one that my husband does not care for is to look for any crossing of legs, arms or expressions of a frown. Thank goodness that has not happened very often and overall I had many more successes than failures throughout our marriage!

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