A couple evenings ago… (Tuesday night)…
…my Love asked me what I wanted for dinner.
I said, “How ’bout some grilled cheese and tomato soup?”
“Again?!?” was the reply.
We had just had the same thing maybe – Friday evening.
“What’s wrong with that?” I said. “It’s the ultimate comfort food and right now, my stomach needs some comforting!”
“No. Don’t you get tired of having the same thing all the time?”
Note: In my lexicon,”all the time” usually requires a bit more frequency than four days ago…
“Would you prefer then, that I went out and slept with a variety of other women?” I asked.
“Well, you want a husband that is committed to loving and being exclusively intimate with only ONE WOMAN for his whole life, but if he wants the same meal more than once a week, that’s a bad thing?”
Discussion over. She had a cheeseburger. I had grilled cheese.
Ironically, that cheeseburger was leftover from Saturday’s July 4th cookout.
She had one on Saturday, one on Sunday, one on Monday, and then as you already read, one on Tuesday.
So I asked her what the difference was…
Husbands, take note.
When you know that you have won a discussion, shut up.
Enjoy the victory inwardly.
Do Not attempt the extra point.
This is beating a dead horse and beneath you as the head of your household.
Wives, let us have our “Grilled Cheese & Tomato Soup”.
I would submit that there is a direct correlation between the ability of a man to be content with the same foods day after day and our lifelong, monogamous focus on YOU, our beloved spouses.
I could eat Grilled Cheese & Tomato Soup every day.
I love it! I can’t tell you why.
I also need to see, touch, kiss, and talk to my Love every day.
For this, I do know why…
She is beautiful.
She is smart.
She has talents that complement mine.
She is laughs at my jokes.
She is captivating – just sitting there.
She has those neat curves and bumps in all the right places…
She is the mother of my children.
She is my friend.
She is my lover.
She is my personal gift from God, Who designed her to be attractive to me – even at her worst.
I can’t get enough of her.
(C) Alan Mowbray 2009