Forgive me Mary Ann, for I have sinned — it’s been four weeks since my last post.
Well, Mary Ann of all people knew what it was like to juggle everything AND make dinner, well, until we were all old enough to be her slaves.
Jay and I haven’t been doing too much real cooking these days. There have been lots of frozen pizzas, spaghetti and frozen fish. At least we always dress them up with spinach salad to make it fancy.
Oh yeah!! I almost forgot to tell you the big news!! Jay, hater of all things seafood, actually tried frozen fish. You know the kind, a step up from fish sticks … the battered cod filets you make with homemade tartar sauce (Miracle Whip and ketchup … hey,don’t knock it til you’ve tried it.) Well, Jay gave in one day. I don’t remember why. Here’s proof:
Oh yeah, he plugged his nose for real. Then after he determined he wouldn’t die, he took another bite:
That’s actually a tiny smile on his face. I think. The only other time I saw Jay eat seafood was in 2001. Oh yes, I remember it well. We were at a friend’s birthday party in Hermosa Beach. We were at some Asian place by the beach that brought beer bongs around to your table. Which might explain why Jay tried seafood. Somebody ordered a plate of oyster shooters. Now, I love seafood but I won’t even touch oyster shooters. Jay thought this would be his big triumph over seafood. I tried to talk him out of it. If you’re not a seafood lover, the LAST type of seafood you want to sample is raw oysters. Especially if you think you’re supposed to chew them (like Jay did). All I know is that he grabbed one of them, despite my attempts at talking him out of it, and popped it into his mouth. And then he realized: it … was … nasty. I’m pretty sure his gag reflex had already kicked in, because he couldn’t swallow it. Took him about a solid minute to get that thing down without puking. If it was me, I would’ve just spit it out, but he had friends to impress. Of course one of those friends projectile-vomited his oysters and sushi down our birthday table after indulging in a few beer bongs.
So every time since then when I’ve tried to talk Jay into trying crab, or lobster, or salmon … he won’t have it. That oyster had ruined him, or so I thought until the fancy battered frozen fish. Oh well, you gotta start somewhere. Of course, maybe I won’t try to get him to try crab again. If he likes it (and how could he not), I may never get my fair share again on fancy crab leg night.