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adorable dad thing today: watching the man cook
for context, when he was a young college student he worked at a fancy restaurant in the middle of nowhere. From time to time he pulls out his skills from that restaurant whether it's cooking or random waiter things or whatnot. He absolutely loves cooking. He's so good at it too.
And, I don't know, there's just something about it. Him opening the oven to pull out three pans of golden beautiful enchiladas made with such specificity and love. Enough to feed his family for two days and also a couple of young adults who were stopping by for food. The love. Small batch huge heart. So much care.
He used to hate complex foods. He used to be a horrible picky eater who didn't like tomatoes or mushrooms or anything red or anything grown up. (This was before I knew him, but I know stories.) He used to hate cooking. And then, to be a dad, he learned. He learned for work to support his family and then he learned for love to feed his family. And decades later he's still at it. And it's incredible. I cannot fathom food as good as my dad's.
Forget adorable. My dad is precious.