Rewind to last night: I ask the husband if he'll eat pasta in a creamy pumpkin sauce for Meatless Monday. He tells me he'll eat it if I make him a pumpkin pie. I agree. Fast-forward to tonight: I make pasta in a beautiful, thick and creamy pumpkin sauce. The kitchen smells spicy and amazing. But it smells like I'm making pie - not dinner.
After about 20 minutes of cooking, dinner is on the table. The husband starts eating and squints his eyes and gives me a smirk from across the table. It's his look that lets me know he loves me. After all, he's voluntarily eating a meatless dinner that smells like one of his favorite autumnal desserts. Oh, it's weird.