A Foodie For A Partner

As much as I would like to think of myself as a beauty that most men would love to spend the rest of their lives looking at, I am not. That’s the truth. It is staring back at me in the mirror everyday. Mirrors are cruel. I wonder how Snow White’s step-mother could live with one. Much less one that talks.

So, if beauty is not on my resume, it makes me wonder why on earth my easy-going, shoot-from-the-hip Hubby would choose to spend the rest of his life looking at me. I am uptight, over-cautious, chaotic, demanding and temperamental. I once laughed to my former beau that he definitely got a better deal with his wife than he would from me. His coffee nearly came back out through his nostrils. Then he excused himself to the washroom to clean up, but I suspect that he probably went to call his wife to thank her for saving him from a life of untold misery.

As if those qualities aren’t enough, I had to throw “being a foodie” into the equation. Being food-obsessed and discerning in taste makes me an even harder person to put up with. I can’t abide eating anything just so to fill the stomach, which results in hours of agonizing over where and what to eat. I am very specific about what I cook and what I cook with. A wrong type of soy sauce picked up by Hubby would result in a mega kitchen tantrum meltdown. I have always wondered if I am going overboard by being so fastidious in the name of being a foodie. But after reading this article by Sanura Weathers from My Life Runs On Food, I know I am not alone.

I can only hope that Hubby continues to enjoy the food that I put on his table enough to suffer this kind of abusive relationship.

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