Believe it or not, it’s not always a barrel full of kittens being married to me.
When it comes to food, I have the temperance of a three-year-old. I pick at my food and remove anything which I deem to be either “yucky” or “totally gross.” This includes everything from mushrooms, celery, pickles, cabbage, peppers, and nuts to that most vile weed of all, the onion. And another thing that I just don’t enjoy all that much is mustard. My wife knows all this. It means that there’s a lot of dishes she can’t make as much as she’d like because she’s concerned that her 29-year-old will pout like a toddler. It also means that occasionally we have to order our pizza half-sausage, mushroom, olives, red peppers and onions/half-cheese. So I’m appreciative of her patience. She handles all this like a pro.
Of course, that doesn’t mean she has to be happy about it all the time. Take last night’s meat loaf, for instance.
Ha ha, mustard. Indeed.
In case I’ve never mentioned it before, it’s things like this that I love about my wife the most. Happy Valentine’s Day, sweetie.
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