Now here is where the difference between my man and me is so evident. At about 7:30, he poured himself a bowl of rice chex and rounded out the meal with a peanut butter sandwich (no jam, no honey; just peanut butter on a slice of white bread). Done.
Although I was hungry at 7:00, I waited. I waited because I knew that the enjoyment of my meal would increase oh so much if only I didn't have a little person pulling on my pant leg, begging for a bite. I waited until 8:15 when the punk was in his crib, snuggled up in his yellow lamb blanket with a binky in his soft, pink, baby mouth. Then, I opened the fridge and found that we were out of milk. This just won't do. I had my heart set on the ultimate quick comfort food: hot chocolate with soft eggs and buttered whole wheat toast. Did you notice that the hot chocolate comes first? It's not just an afterthought like many beverages tend to be. Hot chocolate makes this meal. One can't just settle for eggs and toast. That would be wrong. So, off to the grocery store I went.
As I entered, I could have marched straight to the back of the store where I could see the milk waiting for me. That would be too easy. Too like the man waiting for me at home. No, instead I tortured myself by strolling by the bakery, at the opposite end of the store, to drool at the chocolate eclairs and cheesecake brownies. As I made my way back to the dairy section, I passed peanut M&Ms, chocolate pudding, peanut butter cups... I reminded myself that I wasn't actually going to purchase any of these treats. I was there only for milk, and the chocolate torture game was just a bonus. I grabbed the milk and made my way to the registers... but blocking my way was a display of Lehi Roller Mills brownie mixes. Gah! How am I to withstand such temptation? I'm telling you right now, if the man were not at home to see what a glutton I can be, I would have picked up a box in a split second, made the brownies, and eaten the entire pan. Lucky I don't live alone, eh?
So I made it out of the store with only the milk I had gone there seeking. Then I proceeded to make my perfect hot chocolate (which would have been more perfect if I had Ghirardelli cocoa, but my grocery store doesn't sell it), and with it, eggs and toast. Then I sat down to enjoy my delicious meal with a semi-entertaining, if not scholarly, book. I dip my toast in the liquid gold, I smear soft egg on another bite, and I am in food heaven.
All this is to say that my pleasurable meal took about an hour to prepare and consume, while my man took about 4 1/2 minutes with his dinner.
With whom do you identify? The efficient, eat-for-sustenance guy? Or the slightly neurotic, chocolate-crazed, eat-for-pleasure chick?