I have been craving two things for about two weeks now. One is sushi. Specifically spicy tuna rolls. The other is Indian food. Curry sauce. Yum. I actually dreamed I was eating Indian food last night. It's crossing the line between a simple craving and a full blown obsession. And the only obsession I have time for is shoes, as we all know.
So, I know what you are thinking. "Girl, just go out and get some and stop your whining." And that really would be the solution now, wouldn't it. Like I'm not smart enough to know that? I know this. There's a problem with the simple solution. The problem is most commonly known as ... my husband.
Now, before we examine this problem up close and personal, let me state for the record that I love my husband. I adore him. He is the most wonderful man. I find no flaw in him that I can't make a sacrifice for. So, that said, let me delve into why I can't indulge these two cravings at the moment.
My husband and I have loads in common. Loads. We hardly ever even notice our 10 year age difference. (He's older, thanks for asking) We have a lot of fun together. It's partly why I married him. But when it comes to food, we see things very differently.
I love ethnic food. All kinds of ethnic foods. I am an adventurous eater, all though I don't do crazy foods like cow tongue or deep fried bugs. My husband doesn't do ethnic foods. In his mind, the only acceptable Italian food is pizza or spaghetti, the Mexican he prefers is completely Americanized, a la Taco Bell, and he orders chow mien at Chinese places, which really isn't Chinese at all. I stick to a mostly raw, mostly vegetarian(leaning toward the vegan)diet while his favorite food is steak and white potatoes, preferably deep fried. Do you see the dilemma here? Do you understand now what I am dealing with?
Now on Monday I made the suggestion that we visit a local eatery that features really excellent sushi. On Mondays they offer it at half price. Good suggestion, right? Wrong. The response I got was: "Why? I don't like sushi." Now had I suggested we visit the local steakhouse, the response would have been something like: "Hurry up and get your shoes on already!"
So here is my point, although I took a long time to make it: Marriage is a sacrifice. You have to have give and take and you don't always get your way. It's the beauty of the sacrifice that makes the relationship deep and special. I think if more people gave up what they wanted for the other person, less marriages would end in divorce. A simplistic view of a complex problem, I realize, but if only people could see this going in. You see, I will eventually get my sushi. And I will continue to visit steakhouses and order salad. While I find my husband's aversion to ethnic foods a bit funny and something to tease him about, I respect his choices. And he respects mine. That's what makes our marriage work so well. And that is what makes my life work so well. However, I will have to wait for my next visit to Denver to see Nicole before I will get my Indian food fix. It's a sacrifice, I know.