When my Love and I began to co-habitate, she warned me that she does not cook or clean. She hires a cleaning lady who comes in once every other week and does a thorough cleaning, and her mother cooks almost every day while her father has a key to the apartment and delivers food directly to the fridge and freezer. My Love recognizes and appreciates how blessed she is in having parents who do this for her. After having had to fight just to live, not once but twice, she is able to now discern what is important to her and how she wants to expend her energy. Neither cooking nor cleaning fit into the equation of energy efficiency. Providing food for her daughter is also one of her mother's love languages. Eating it with enthusiasm is my Love's love language in response. I thought about it for less than point 3 seconds and responded with, "I think that system will work for me." Sometimes the food flows in so fast that it is difficult to keep up and get it all eaten, but we are willing to give it the college go and do the best we can to get the job of eating done.
Now, when we first started out, I was not sure how I was going to handle the Indian food. The only time I had ever been served curry in anything was not a pleasant experience. In fact, I am pretty sure that those people, who hailed from Burundi in Africa, over spiced their food as a means of filtering out who was worthy of their associations and who was not. So when I heard the phrase "curry chicken" I was fully prepared to have my face melted off. To my surprise and delight, the melting process was non-existent. Instead I was left with the feeling of "Ahhhh, I can feel that go right into my bloodstream and nourish my immune system!" It was truly magical.
My Love's mother always wanted her to find a "nice Indian boy" to marry. So now that I am eating the actual "hot" stuff, she is informing her mother that she indeed found that "nice Indian boy" but that we won't be getting married anytime soon. I know that I have found a family that fits for me because when we visit her parents' home, as we walk in the aroma of the cooking makes me instantly hungry. The way to a man's heart truly is through his stomach! And the system of hiring out the cleaning and having food delivered still works for me!