Money, Sex and Food
By Judy R Demick
Awwww...you're in love and you can't wait to live together. Playing house will be so much fun. You can make meals together. On Sunday mornings you'll take turns fixing each other breakfast in bed.
Wait a minute until I catch my breath and wipe away the tears. I haven't laughed so hard in years.
I'm going to be sexist, but I can't help it. Here's what's going to happen. The first month or two, he's going to make bacon, eggs, and hash browns, covered with ketchup. He will probably mush it all together. You will think he's so cute and you will make a mental note to work out 30 minutes longer to rid yourself of those nasty calories. He worked so hard and you can't let him down.
Fast forward a few months. You come downstairs and he's making his famous breakfast. All you can see is the grease all over the pans and counter. There's probably some on the ceiling too. It's going to take you hours to clean this mess up since he certainly isn't going to do it. And you know what? Those breakfasts of his just make you feel sluggish, fat, and bloated. As a matter of fact, lover boy is getting a little paunchy around the middle.
I have to be fair so let's see this from the other side. The love of your life comes downstairs for one of your gourmet, healthy, spinach quiches. He smiles. He resists grabbing the ketchup. He cleans his plate. He expresses his appreciation for your efforts to keep both of you fit and cholesterol free. He's happy because you love him and haven't bolted out the door yet.
Wait, wait....time passes. He struggles out of bed, looks in the kitchen, sees evidence of egg whites and a green vegetable and panics. There must be meat this morning. Must have meat. What to do? "Honey, I'm so sorry, you've gone to so much work for us, but I promised Jerry that I would stop by his place to help him fix his shower. I'll be gone just a few minutes. You can put mine in the trash fridge. Love ya!" Gotta get to McDonald's before they stop serving breakfast. Ummmmm, Egg McMuffin.
This is the cold, hard truth. He wants to eat like this. He wants a tub of something covered in mayonnaise, and he wants to eat it out of the container.
And she, even though she may occasionally sneak a spoonful of ice cream out of the carton, is thinking of 14 healthy ways to fix carrots. She may even be signing up for "Cooking Light" magazine. I see a "Summer Lemon-Vegetable Risotto" in your future. Did ya know? Only 395 calories a serving.
And you thought most relationships broke up over sex or money. Well, you can add food to the mix.
Not all relationships end up like Romeo and Juliet, but if they had just gone out for pizza, things might have turned out better.
Many years ago, I thought I had met the love of my life. Everything was great, if you didn't count all of the times he hit on my roommates, but the final straw was food. I opened his refrigerator and there sat a package of tongue. An organ meat. Something that should never be eaten. Then he boiled it. I saw it in the pot....boiling. It looked like a horror movie, and then he sliced it for sandwiches. How could this ever work? It didn't. Maybe it wasn't the tongue that did it, but it certainly pushed me over the edge.
Then there's the "That's not how my mother makes it.," which is guaranteed to end up badly. Or, when it's his turn to cook for the family he orders out, which is against the rules. If you work hard to make healthy meals after working all day, then so should he.
The ex would stick his nose in the casserole, and I mean "in" the casserole, eye it suspiciously, poke at it, and finally, take a tentative bite. No comments. Just slurping. That was a relationship builder.
My darling hubby came into our relationship with four meals he liked and expected to be rotated throughout the week...pork chops (always with asparagus and rice), hamburgers, chili and spaghetti. I came into our relationship with a love of reading recipes and never making the same thing twice. We've worked it out. I do most of the cooking and occasionally I let him make one of his four specialties.
It's all worked out pretty good. He's learned that he likes lots of different foods. Duh...Do you think this was part of his plan? Do you think he knew that if he only fixed four things, it would force me into doing the majority of the cooking?
Just when I thought I knew about relationships. I wonder what would happen if I bought a tongue?
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