Beneath my Dignity to Climb a Tree?
Wherein, Beneath it
all, Our Heroine Won't Grow Up.
Getting married points up all sorts of
differences between the married people. Actually, just living together does
that as well, but there seems to be an additional shade added to those
differences upon marriage.* Sometimes sharing an abode with someone can
actually go beyond highlighting differences to stripping illusions away. So it
is in our house with
food.
John used to give me
seventeen kinds of trouble about my "empty refrigerator" back when we were
dating. Hey - I was single, I traveled a lot for my work, and I didn't love the
idea of throwing food away. I didn't think much about his joking criticisms.
When we moved in together, I was astonished (and a bit impressed) by the amount
and types of food he would get. The man actually made his lunch every day
(there are a few things I intensely dislike making: sandwiches and salads are
among them, because I feel like I spend more time pulling out ingredients and
putting them away than I do making anything with them). Additionally, he
actually made dinner every night - a proper dinner with protein, starch, and
veg.
Suddenly, I realized I
was living with a bona fide Food Adult. Even when I had a fridge full of food,
when I lived alone I tended to eat serially. I would cook up some chicken or a
bowl of spinach, see if I was still hungry, and if that was the case I would
wander back to the kitchen and get something else. I grew up in a household
where meals were square, so the idea of eating a "normal meal" was far from
alien to me, but it often felt like too much trouble to cook an entire meal just
for myself. Similar to my dislike of making salads and sandwiches, I felt as if
I spent more time washing up than cooking and eating. Why go to all that
trouble? When I had people over I would cook properly, and sometimes I would
actually get in gear, roast a chicken, and do the various follow-on things a
good and frugal cook will do with it (chicken salad, soups, etc.), but usually I
would just serially graze until I didn't feel like eating any
more.
Now that there are two
of us, my "cooking for one is too much trouble" argument doesn't hold water.
Additionally, I feel like when it is my turn to cook I have to rise to the same
standard as my Food Adult husband. Therefore, we eat a proper dinner most
evenings, even if it is usually in front of the television. However, last night
John had a late class and I did some freelance work into the evening.
My working "dinner" was chips
and salsa. Take that,
maturity.
*Note: I am
not one to state that "everything changes" when you get married, because my
experience tells me that that statement is hooey. Very little changed when Our
Hero and I got married. I am glad I did it, and I would do it again, but not
because it rendered our entire relationship in colors I was unable to perceive
in my pre-married state. It lent a different depth and tone to the colors that
were already there, but those differences are subtle to the point that I might
even be imagining them.
Posted: Friday - January 28, 2005 at 07:59 AM
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