Week 22: False Fire Alarms

Back when Sarah and I were dating, I tried my hand at cooking for one of our dates. I don’t particularly remember what I made for the main course that night (not a good sign), but I do remember what I made as a side dish (possibly a good sign but…read the next sentence). I made zucchini chips, and they were horrible. I burnt them and didn’t make the breading correctly. What resulted was basically a pile of crumbly, circular zucchini ash.

So this week we decided to make zucchini chips.

Well, the decision process was slightly different. Although I must admit, when Sarah brought them up as an option, I did have some painful flashbacks. We decided on zucchini chips because we only needed to make a side dish that day. We knew we already had a main dish because Sarah made some amazing turkey meatballs earlier in the week. Zucchini chips sounded like a fun companion…so long as I didn’t burn them this time.

The leftover meatballs were in the fridge just waiting to make their entrance into today’s performance. First, the zucchini chips had to go through their dress rehearsal.

Sarah and I both started chopping zucchini. I was amazed at how precise her zucchini slices were. But I kept that to myself as I tried to focus on chopping my own little circles. Some of mine were a little lopsided because I hadn’t sliced straight through. But I thought nothing of it and kept hacking away at the zucchini. When I was done, Sarah took a sidelong glance at my plate of misshapen zucchini.

“Mind if I cut them some more?” she said.

The question was worded so politely. It was harmless. And yet, our minds can do funny things to harmless questions. If you’re anything like me, a harmless question like that can be warped and twisted to sound like a biting slight to your competance.

I slid the plate over and walked away, my mind still stewing. I had focused on cutting the zucchini to the best of my ability, and it STILL wasn’t good enough for her. I asked if I could help with something else.

We started preparing the breading. I grabbed the spices down from the cupboard and laid them out for Sarah. She needed a few eggs from the refrigerator, so I grabbed her those as well. Once we had everything out, she started the zucchini breading assembly line.

First, she would dip the zucchini slices in the eggs we had cracked open into a bowl. Then, she’d pass the slimy slices to me to dip in the breading. She made sure to point out that I needed to fully coat the zucchini. I wondered about the purpose for that little interjection. Off we went, the breading assembly line running on all cylinders. This process lasted about a minute.

“Would you rather dip the zucchini in the egg?” my loving wife queried.

Again, it was an innocent question. She said it politely. On its face, the interaction would surely seem innocuous enough. But remember..my mind has a mind of its own. I heard, “Aaron, you’re doing a crappy job with that. Switch spots with me so I can do it right!”

I grunted as I dipped the first slice into the bowl of egg.

After the breading was done, the zucchini chips were ready to go in the oven. Sarah slid them in and set the timer for when we would need to flip them. After they were flipped, it’d just be a few more minutes before we’d heat up the meatballs and be ready for dinner.

I had a smile on my face, but inside I was still pouring over what had happened earlier. “She doesn’t think I can do this stuff,” I thought. “She has to take over everything,” I stewed. I was awoken from my self-focused stupor by an alarming sound.

The fire alarm.

Smoke had begun to gather in our apartment — so much so that our smoke detector thought there was a fire. Well, this had happened before. Sarah hurriedly opened the windows while I grabbed a towel to wave in front of the smoke detector to clear the air.

After the blaring alarm had finally shut off (hopefully it didn’t scare the neighbors), I stopped to think. The smoke detector did it’s job — it detected smoke. As all of us budding survivalists know, where there’s smoke there’s fire. Except…there was no fire. It was a false alarm. This loud, obnoxious blaring had happened for the wrong reason. There was smoke, but there was no fire. Smoke is hazy. It clouds the view. I’m grateful that our smoke detector goes off so quickly, don’t get me wrong. I’m glad it’s there to protect us. But in this case, it was overprotective.

What is a useful trait in smoke detectors can be a very poor trait in the mind, however. As I thought about it, I realized how overprotective I had been…of myself.

I thought I sensed smoke — rather my wife’s indignation and perceived superiority. Instead, she was just trying to make some tasty zucchini chips. There was no malice in what she had said. But I interpreted smoke, and my alarm went off.

Marriage has helped me see that we need to be aware of the narratives we tell ourselves. Our internal “smoke detectors” can be deceiving. That’s because in most situations, we look out for our own best interests. We try to save face or make ourselves look good.

But as a husband, I need to be looking out for my wife above myself. I need to be self-sacrificing and willing to serve. I made a vow to love and cherish her. It’s hard to do that when I’m too busy being worried about little old me.

Did Sarah do anything wrong? Absolutely not! She wasn’t nagging or being inconsiderate. She just wanted to make the zucchini chips the right way. And her motivation in doing that wasn’t selfish at all — she wanted her husband to have something good to eat.

When the food was all ready, we sat down to dinner. I crunched into a zucchini chip. Mmmmm…so good! The breading was perfect, and they weren’t burnt. You see, I had already proven what happened when I was allowed to have the controls of cooking zucchini chips — they get burnt. But when I had my wife to help me, they turned out just fine.

This is a lesson I’ll undoubtedly keep learning the rest of my life. Being married is hard work. There are many life lessons to be learned. But on this day, I heard the message loud and clear because it came in the form of a blaring firm alarm.

I encourage you, beware of false fire alarms in your own life. Be willing to look through the smoke to see what’s really there. Sometimes, you will find little fires that you must put out before they become raging infernos. But, in my experience, most times it’s just smoke.