Bucks's Creamy Potato Soup

Author

Bald Buck
December 28, 2025

This Christmas has been a bit rough.

My son came in almost 2 weeks early for Christmas. He brought his girlfriend, Carmella.

She's a sweet girl. She offered to cook dinner for us since they'd be staying at the house for a bit.

My wife thought that was wonderful. So she did what my wife does. She handed Carmella our credit card and told her to grab whatever ingredients she needed.

The first few meals were great. Carmella can cook. No complaints there.

But then she started going to the grocery store three, four times a week. And she wasn't buying chicken and vegetables.

She was buying ribeyes. Lobster tails. Fancy cheeses I can't even pronounce.

I didn't say anything at first. My wife kept saying, "Oh Buck, she's cooking for us. Let the girl make nice meals."

Fine. But after a week and a half of this, I looked at the credit card statement and almost had a heart attack.

Last Sunday, I told Carmella, "Hey, when you go to the store today, please get everything you need for the week in one trip."

She said okay.

Now it’s Monday night and we just finished dinner. 

Carmella and my son are chatting at the table while I'm doing dishes.

Carmella says, "I want to make steak Friday after Christmas."

My son says, "That sounds great."

Then Carmella says, "I'll need to go back to the store."

Before I can even open my mouth, my son looks at me and says, "Dad, give her the card."

I put the dish down.

I said, "No. I gave her money yesterday and told her to get everything she needed. We've got six people in this house. I can't swing everybody eating steak multiple times this week. We'll do steaks for Christmas dinner."

Then I told Carmella if she wants to keep cooking (which I appreciate) I'm going to need to put her on a budget.

She looked like I'd just kicked her dog.

My son got all puffed up and said I "embarrassed" her when she's just trying to be nice.

I told him I appreciate her cooking. But she's doing it on my dime, and I can't afford ribeyes four times a week.

I also told him he's more than welcome to give her his money if he wants steak again on Friday.

He didn't like that.

He said, "Dad, we're only here a few more days. Can't you just make your guest happy?"

I looked at him and said, "Son, she's not a guest anymore. She's been here almost two weeks and yall are eating us out of house and home."

My wife stayed quiet during all this, which tells me she knows I'm right but doesn't want to get involved.

Later that night, my son barely spoke to me. Carmella hasn't offered to cook since.

My wife thinks I should apologize for "how I said it." But I don't think I said anything wrong.

Was I out of line here, or did my son need to hear it?

Enjoy your Sunday!

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Bucks's Creamy Potato Soup

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