Grill that is.
And it was spectacular. Which of course in Kelly vernacular means I didn't burn the steaks to a charbroiled mess. They were edible.
Let's take a moment.
And here is a pic of said grill. I think Spirit and I are going to get along just fine.
Actually, I did exceptionally well. I think hubs was secretly impressed even as he walked me outside and explained for the tenth time how to turn the grill on. I had it. I did. What is it with men and their grills? I don't think he trusted me to use it. Why can't he feel that way about the vacuum cleaner? Oh wait, he does. Don't judge him because he is attached to Dyson. I think it's the purple ball.
And I digress.
He did get a little snarky after when I confessed I forgot to turn off the propane at the tank. I was then subjected to a ten minute lecture on proper grill maintenance. I think he forgets the I know how to work the stove. I did give him some satisfaction and admit my failure. Sadly, I haven't reached Grill God status.
He also had to go out after and remind me to unlock the feet. See we have to move the grill from it's spot against the house to grill and move it back once we're done. He is quirky that way.
Tomorrow I am on to chicken.