I wrote a book called What Husbands Wish Their Wives Knew About Men. In Chapter 10, “Resolving Conflicts–Help Around the House and Other Sore Spots,” I told this story. I hope you get a kick out of it…

Our family purchased a new gas grill—the kind that uses those fake charcoal briquettes. After the first couple of BBQs, Patsy and I agreed the grill didn’t produce that tantalizing charcoal-grilled flavor the brochure had promised.

So one Saturday morning I went to the home improvement store to see what could be done. I was surprised to learn I could pick from three choices of briquettes—lava rock, ceramic, and regular. After discussing the pluses and minuses of each type with a helpful employee, I “scientifically” made what I thought was the best choice.

The next evening we grilled hamburgers, but Patsy and the kids still didn’t think the burgers tasted all that char-grilled. So I proceeded to explain to them all the “research” I had done and why this was the best option. Patsy didn’t seem persuaded.

The following Friday and Saturday I traveled out of town to conduct one of our men’s seminars, a joyful but energy-sapping experience. By the time I rolled in late Saturday afternoon, I was pleasantly surprised to see Patsy honoring my return by preparing a favorite dinner, which included BBQ chicken. She asked me if I would grill the chicken and added, “Oh, by the way. I had John (our son) put in a different type of briquette that I bought for the grill.”

Now, I must confess a mild case of “Are you deaf? Didn’t you hear what I said?” However, why upset the ambiance? So, I put on the chicken, set the kitchen timer, and started reading the newspaper.

Ten minutes later, out of the corner of my eye, I saw a small bonfire raging in the backyard. An oily cloud of smoke rolled across the yard. Through the glass on our grill I could see flames engulfing our chickens! I leaped to my feet, raced to get a spray bottle of water, and vaulted over the lawn furniture. I jerked the lid open, started squirting furiously with one hand, while turning down the burners with the other. Every drop of grease that splashed on a briquette was instantly bursting into flames. Finally, I was able to bring the roaring inferno under control.

When I turned over those pathetic little chickens, the crispy bottom sides looked like the smoldering remains of an animal sacrifice.

I thought, Didn’t I tell her I had done all the research? But, noooo! She wouldn’t believe me. She just had to get these other briquettes. Fine. Well, I’m not going to let this ruin our dinner time. I can still salvage this situation. I’ll finish cooking these carcasses and then cut off the burned parts. So, I left the burners on low, satisfied myself everything was under control, put down the lid, and went back inside.

As I walked back inside I glanced a leery look over my shoulder. Yikes! Once again those demon-possessed flames were gnawing away at the flesh of our poor little chickens! I raced back again and stood there for the next fifteen minutes spraying water on the briquettes every time one of those toady tongues of fire darted up. It was a losing proposition.

By the time I finally placed the corpses of those poor chickens on a plate it looked like we were having cremated cat for dinner. They were burned beyond recognition.

I was muttering before I got the door closed. “I can’t believe you bought these stupid briquettes. I told you I had carefully considered all three types. Did you think I would intentionally buy the wrong kind of briquettes? Do I look that stupid? Why couldn’t you just trust me? Why couldn’t you leave well enough alone? Look at these chickens! There’s no way we can eat these things! You’ve ruined our dinner!”

Things sort of went downhill from there. Patsy ended up skipping dinner and going to bed early. The kids ate hurriedly, then went in different directions. Boy, can I be a jerk.

Hope you enjoyed that. It wasn’t quite so funny at the time! You can download a complimentary copy of What Husbands Wish Their Wives Knew About Men at https://www.maninthemirror.org/images/ebooks/WHWTWKAM.pdf as a gift from all of us at Man in the Mirror to you. We hope you have a wonderful 2015 and wish you a Happy New Year.

Until every church disciples every man…

Pat