Thursday, February 9, 2012

Pizza Mishaps

Anyone who has ever been in love knows there are moments where you just know it's the real deal.  Here’s one of mine back when my hub hub and I were dating.

Some context, please.  For as long as I can remember, I have had a very weird relationship with food.  I am (was?) incredibly picky, and it’s something I hate talking about even know.  I have dealt with so many jabs and snide comments about my eating habits that I lost count years and years ago.  Why not just force myself to eat more variety, you ask?  Fabulous question, and here’s your fabulous answer: I couldn’t.  For some reason, my gag reflex is triggered very easily, and it’s somewhat unpredictable.  Sometimes it’s the smell that gets me, other times it’s the texture, or most often, the taste.  

The worst part is that there’s no reason or rhyme to it.  I don’t like tomatoes, but I’ll dip my fries in ketchup any day.  I don’t like sour cream and onions are my mortal enemy, but I love sour cream and onion potato chips.  Just shrug along with me friends, I don’t get it either.

This makes me hard to cook for, and I’ve turned down many a dinner invitation for fear of the menu.  I feel embarrassed and ashamed every time I have to ask someone what’s in a dish.  I’ve gotten angry, lied about not being hungry, and cried over it later.  Psychologists do your thing, because something about this whole issue goes deep emotionally for me.

So here I was with my soon-to-be hubnub, out to pizza with my grandma and aunts visiting from out of town.  We were at Gino’s East, about to devour what can only be known as the best pizza on the planet.  I greedily snatched my piece onto my plate and began scraping off the large chunks of tomato so I could get to the gooey cheese and perfectly spiced pepperoni underneath.  As I scraped, the dreaded barb came:

“Mitch, I’m not sure how you do it.  Isn’t that embarrassing to you?”

I felt the shame flood my body as I cautiously turned my eyes to my knight, who responded:

“I don’t find it embarrassing at all.  It’s just who she is.”

As I reflect on this now, almost 2 years later, it’s really so indicative of who we are as a couple.  No, he didn’t come up with some romantic swoon-worthy answer, but instead quietly defended me and protected me at my most vulnerable.  

Though I complain sometimes about his lack of romance, he is the most solid, steady, and loyal man I have ever met.  And this was one of the moments, no matter how insignificant it may seem, where I knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that this man could care for me the rest of my life.  

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