Throw it Up!
“I hate peas.” As my wife stirs the vegetarian ravioli inside the deep skillet.
“I mean, why do they have to put peas in there, just because it’s vegetarian?”
Silence As I am writing this it just dawned on me that peas have pea protein, and for vegetarians maybe besides the cheese in the ravioli, it was a protein source, ahhh… I am going to make my own vegetarian meal, eggs, butter, and spinach leaves. The time is 5:45 PM. As one last episode of Bob’s Burgers, plays in the background, a familiar phrase indicates the show's closing, my wife and I prepare dinner to continue with this habit of “dinners together.”
I personally love it. Even if most of the food we make for our 2-going-on-30 daughter goes in the trash, it is so nice to sit together for even five minutes. A lot of work, but nice.
“This is nice” my wife confirms my own thoughts, challenging my acceptance for comfort and fighting the desire to throw in a sarcastic joke. An old tendency to ruin that which is pure, destroy a moment due to my own discomfort.
“I don’t like those.”
“Eat around them…” my wife responds, immediately looks up at me, “Oh my goodness, I am my mom.” A fear among spouses. For neither party wants to be their parents, but an improved version, taking what we learn and turning it into strength.
My daughter lacks the strength to force down vegetables at this point, a strength I myself didn’t find until my 20’s. I’ll just take a supplement, I used to think.
“I want that.” She points to my wife’s cheese bread, her version of the same meal as our daughter. My wife plays along, the smaller version of food sitting in front of this picky 2-year-old getting ever closer to our dog's mouth.
…
“Ahhh, bring up cleaning wipes please!” My wife yells from up the stairs.
“She throw up?” “she” is our husky, the eater of all things, too many things, and the one most-likey to get sick.
“Oh, disgusting!” I hear my daughter. Atop the stairs I see the brightest, most-bold stain of brown I have ever witnessed come from the inside of a dog and guess what lay top this monstrosity? Peas.
I work on the clean up as my wife starts the book readings for the night.
…
The dark, early morning ambiance is nice. I can get things done, mostly uninterrupted, mostly being me that gets in the way.
I am so sleepy this morning… I decide after much debate and wasted time to lay on the upstairs couch.
Setting the alarm on my phone for 30 minutes, I decide to just rest my eyes. As I lay the phone down on the carpet next to me, I feel it.
What the…
PEAS!!!
“I mean, why do they have to put peas in there, just because it’s vegetarian?”Silence As I am writing this it just dawned on me that peas have pea protein, and for vegetarians maybe besides the cheese in the ravioli, it was a protein source, ahhh… I am going to make my own vegetarian meal, eggs, butter, and spinach leaves. The time is 5:45 PM. As one last episode of Bob’s Burgers, plays in the background, a familiar phrase indicates the show's closing, my wife and I prepare dinner to continue with this habit of “dinners together.”
I personally love it. Even if most of the food we make for our 2-going-on-30 daughter goes in the trash, it is so nice to sit together for even five minutes. A lot of work, but nice.
“This is nice” my wife confirms my own thoughts, challenging my acceptance for comfort and fighting the desire to throw in a sarcastic joke. An old tendency to ruin that which is pure, destroy a moment due to my own discomfort.
“I don’t like those.”
“Eat around them…” my wife responds, immediately looks up at me, “Oh my goodness, I am my mom.” A fear among spouses. For neither party wants to be their parents, but an improved version, taking what we learn and turning it into strength.
My daughter lacks the strength to force down vegetables at this point, a strength I myself didn’t find until my 20’s. I’ll just take a supplement, I used to think.
“I want that.” She points to my wife’s cheese bread, her version of the same meal as our daughter. My wife plays along, the smaller version of food sitting in front of this picky 2-year-old getting ever closer to our dog's mouth.
…
“Ahhh, bring up cleaning wipes please!” My wife yells from up the stairs.
“She throw up?” “she” is our husky, the eater of all things, too many things, and the one most-likey to get sick.
“Oh, disgusting!” I hear my daughter. Atop the stairs I see the brightest, most-bold stain of brown I have ever witnessed come from the inside of a dog and guess what lay top this monstrosity? Peas.
I work on the clean up as my wife starts the book readings for the night.
…
The dark, early morning ambiance is nice. I can get things done, mostly uninterrupted, mostly being me that gets in the way.
I am so sleepy this morning… I decide after much debate and wasted time to lay on the upstairs couch.
Setting the alarm on my phone for 30 minutes, I decide to just rest my eyes. As I lay the phone down on the carpet next to me, I feel it.
What the…
PEAS!!!
“I suppose if we couldn’t laugh at things that don’t make sense, we couldn’t react to a lot of life.”- Bill WattersonCastle-Broken: When appearances are everything, available on Amazon. No I couldn't personally throw up, but a lot of people try and are very successful, all to keep an "ideal" body. Click here for more.
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