The holidays were lovely- my Scroogey attitude was quickly reversed when I realized I'd be getting gifts.
eek. Gift highlights; A letter written to me from my very favorite blogger/author Stephanie Klein, petitioned by my super sweet man. A month of unlimited yoga, from my parents. The box set of The Tudors (I've been speaking "tudor" for 5 days straight now, "Come hither boy!" and "What say you?" my two favorite phrases.) and plenty of goodies that smell good and make my skin soft.
...now onto bigger issues.
The other night My Love and I got in a quarrel. Just a small one. But the weight of the issue, is grand. Issue: WHAT'S FOR DINNER.
Let's preface this argument with some history: growing up with a Mother who owned a dance studio, she worked from 3pm-10pm....dinner was Taco Bell at eleven o'clock at night, or rubbery chicken that my Dad baked. Or some odd assembly of food that came wrapped in plastic. It wasn't until much later in my adult life that my Mom changed her schedule and started using the cookbooks gathering dust in our junk drawer. I learned how to "fend for myself"....if you will.
My Love's upbringing was different; he came home from school, greeted by a snack. A pb&j, crusts cut off and large glass of milk (he still will not eat anything with an OUNCE of sugar, if it isn't accompanied by milk.) He ate dinner every night with the family at 5pm. In fact, meals were planned....a year in advance at times. Impressive and also never gonna happen in my house. Eggs were on the table every morning, there was always an abundance of Icecream in the freezer and "special" bread in the bread box. AND to wrap it all in a perfectly family bow, there were placemats, seasonal and handmade placemats.
How he's even attracted to me in the slightest is by some act of God. Or confusion and desperation. But, I'd like to think God has something to do with it.
The exchange that made me realize we're going to have to find a solution for this "What's for dinner" madness went like this:
My Love, "Babe.....what are we gonna do for dinner?"
Me, "I don't know. Whatever."
Him, "How aboutttt...Stir Fry?" (first of all, I don't eat STIR FRY unless I'm ordering in and probably a little depressed.) "It's easy; just some veggies, Ground beef, rice, NOODLES and soy sauce."
Me, "Are you serious? You want me to eat rice, noodles AND soy sauce all together, in one meal? Do you want to have sex with a balloon later? I'd be able to float after that meal."
My Love proceeds to give me this dumbfounded look as if he's never heard of the affects of sodium on the human figure. Then the debate goes, well who's cooking this alleged stir fry? In all fairness, he HAS cooked more than I have in this home...but like I said, I'll just eat yogurt and call it a night. We bounce back and forth food options, his all involve some absurd caloric value, while mine carry some monetary value and a waiter.
In the most dramatic fashion, I end up crying with a spoonful of peanut butter in my mouth, as I question my ability to be a good housegirlfriend.
So what do you do about this? No one gives you a manual that says, "Here's how to live with your boyfriend: Chapter two- Change your eating habits and learn to cook, bitch."
When you're living with someone you have to find a compromise with everything; with things you didn't think twice about before. First it's peanut butter, then it's laundry detergent, then it's "I can't dry my clothes with a Downy Ball"....downy ball? Next thing you know you're at Target looking for a Downy Ball. Then there's; do we eat breakfast together every morning, do we decide dinner plans ahead of time?
The IDEA of being that woman who knows how to bake things according to altitude, and who makes a "signature" something that everyone asks for when you attend a party is all a nice IDEA. The idea of being perfect is always nice, it's just not real.
My solution is this; We cook together. TOGETHER. If we make mushy pasta, or overly salted sauce, we do it together. We chop and dice and smell and squeeze to check for ripeness, together. When we fend for ourselves, we decide together that it's a cereal night.
AND if I am going to take on some roll as cook extraordinaire.....
What's YOUR favorite meal to cook?