Wednesday, February 04, 2009

A mixed marriage can work. I think.

That's our freezer as of this morning. I had to pull aside some weird foil packets of "organic chicken bones, 11/08, for soup" to show the dogs to full advantage. 

Back all those years ago when my husband and I were courting, I found it charming that he loved Fritos. What a great, unpretentious guy. He introduced me to Lunchables, which if you are not familiar with them, well, here: 

Such a discovery! 

Today, I would as soon eat dog food.*

Isn't that the way with courtship? The things that first attract you.

Getting back to the freezer. Every time I pull open the door Mark's corn dogs call out to me. They call out: "Please throw us away. We take up precious space and we're unhealthy and fattening and cheap and disgusting except at a rodeo or state fair. Also, your husband didn't re-seal the box so we're all freezer-burned."

But it seems both wasteful and disrespectful to throw away a spouse's corn dogs.

Mark and I argue about food constantly. What comes into the house, what goes into the kids' lunch boxes, the tearful, years-long battle over hormone-free vs. cheap generic milk, canned soup vs. homemade.

Perhaps, I could simply forbid him to bring Pop-Tarts and off-price Jimmy Dean sausage into the house, though I don't know how you "forbid" an adult. Or, I could do all the grocery shopping myself. 

Hmm. Dictator or Betty Draper.

I do think I'm gradually winning the war, though Mark has been incredibly, maddeningly stubborn. This is certainly not the rout I observe with envy in the refrigerators of my friends. 

Maybe they're just married to girly men

*not really

1 comment:

  1. The sad thing is that I got those corn dogs on a weekend where ultimately I came down with the flu, and so I associate them with a bad time and haven't mustered the courage to eat any since then.