(me) Why can't I blog about you? I blog about everybody else!
(him) Because you always make fun of everybody, and I don't want you making fun of me on your blog.
(me) Well, yeah, but teasing is how I show I care....it's my thing.
(him) Well it's not mine.
So petulantly I agreed to not blog about him. But you know what? He started to feel left out. And he said that I could blog about him a little bit. And in return I promised not to write about how he never locks the bathroom door or how his lip balm makes his lips look shimmery. Because those are lines that I promised I would not cross. But here is a little something that I do want to share:
Pie made a recent and (to him) rather startling discovery this season:
He likes eggnog
I was like, duh. Any man who feels as passionately as Pie does about ice cream would most likely also enjoy a little nog. It's just like ice cream, but all melty! Deep in my heart I always knew he would like eggnog, but he wouldn't try it. For years I would wag a mug full of it in his face at Christmas, telling him he should try it. He never would. And it was just recently that I realized why he never did. Because he didn't like the name"egg nog". He thought it sounded gross. I get that--you know--when you're four. But as a grown man Pie should have known better. I make fun of him about it now, so he can always remember how important it is to keep learning and growing and trying new things.
The eggnog incident reminded me of the Olive Garden incident from years ago when we were just college newly-weds. Around 1993, the year we were married, Orem got it's first Olive Garden restaurant. We had no money. We hardly ever went to restaurants (this was the time in my life when I could conceive of nothing more luxuriant than financially being in a position to always have a box of Pop Tarts in the house) but whenever we had the opportunity, I would suggest Olive Garden. For some reason we never went. Finally, after about two years of missed opportunities I confronted Pie. I asked him bluntly why we couldn't go. And as he stood there looking at me trying to come up with some plausible excuse, the light went on in my head and I said "You don't want to go to the Olive Garden because you hate olives! That's the real reason, isn't it?" And I was right. He hates olives, and the name alone made him not want to eat there. Well, through a deliberate effort on my part to make him feel silly about the whole thing, he was able to overcome his childish aversion to the name of the restaurant and we finally went. Guess what? He actually really liked it.
Which brings me to the moral of this post which is, teasing is important.
