Tuesday, May 5, 2009

Song as old as rhyme...Beauty & The Beast

Picture it: Sicily, 1912. A beautiful young peasant girl with clear olive skin....I"m sorry, I'm telling the wrong story. I'm not Sofia from the Golden Girls.

The Legend of the Beast goes back a long time...before any of us could even pick up a baseball, back to a place called Myrtle's Acres. Sorry, I'm also not Squints from The Sandlot, but this quote is closer to my story.

Last night, I awoke, The Beast. I have been warned not to get on a pregnant lady's bad side. Don't mess with it, you can't handle that kind of fury. I have been fine for 19weeks and 1 day. 134 days without incident. Then, the Rachael Ray Ruckus.

I"ll start off by saying Allison is an excellent cook and baker. I love most of her meals (look at my stomach, the proof is right there) and I appreciate that she cooks for me almost every night. I know a lot of wives out there don't do that.

You should also know that I do something strange while I eat. Allison pointed it out to me a few years ago, but I cannot seem to shake it. I have to have "the perfect bite" on each bite I take. It takes me a long time to eat most meals because I am picking my bites. I will dump a whole scoop of food if there are too many peas or not enough meat.

I also inspect my food before I eat it. I don't mean I give it a once over on my plate before I start eating. I mean every bite I take, I inspect my food from every angle. I will spin a burger, lift my fork over my eye line so I can inspect the bottom, unfold a slice of pizza to look inside even thought I just looked a minute ago and all was fine. Why do I do it? I have no idea? But it drives Allison crazy. Seriously she hates it more than anything else I do or have ever done. I hope I don't pass this on to Baby C.

Now that you know the back story, on to the rest of the tale. Allison got a Rachael Ray magazine from her mother and decided to make one of the recipes. It was a pasta dish with peas, mint and ricotta cheese. She flat out said "Eew, I don't think you are going to like this, but let's try it anyway."

I was not looking forward to this meal. Allison knows what I like and what I won't like. She is three 9s accurate. So I had a really bad feeling. When she sampled it and didn't really like it, I knew I was in big, big trouble.

Allison knew I wasn't liking my meal. She said "Can't you just eat it? I worked really hard on it!" In hindsight, I should have just sucked it up and forced the mean green down. It looked like pasta with peas and green slime from You Can't Do That On Television, and I imagine the taste wasn't that far off. But instead, what I did, was say "I think I'm going to play the I'm not a damn kid card and say that I'm not gonna eat something I don't like."

Well if you are wondering what you can say to trigger the raging hormones of a pregnant woman, that is it my friends. She got so mad at me. She yelled, cried, stormed off to the living room, stormed upstairs, stormed back, stormed off to the patio and didn't speak to me for a good hour or so.

I felt really bad. I didn't want to make her upset, I just didn't want to eat the green goop. How does this tie into Baby C? Well when he is older (after he is born of course) am I going to be one of those parents that say "Why? because I said so, that's why!" or "do as I say, not as I do." I'm sure there are legitimate reasons to use both of those lines, but is eating your veggies or a dish that is only a 2 out of 10 one of them? Will those lines lose some of their power if I throw them around at every meal? Crap! I'm going to have to eat meals I don't really like and all my veggies. Allison....honey...no brussel sprouts, collard greens or spaghetti squash! I'll try my best on the rest of the foods, for Baby C and of course, for you too.


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