Meat and the Jackpot

I was doing so well with blogging daily and then the flu snuck up on me and ran me over last week.  I never get the flu!  Well, apparently I shouldn't say never since it just happened, but it doesn't happen very often!  As I was laying in bed with chills, achy, dizzy, and not able to do too much, I was very thankful to have Mr. C around to take care of me.  Sometimes (most times) I feel like I hit the jackpot with him.  If I had a checklist of what I wanted in a husband, I would have checked them all off and added some more boxes!  Of course nothing is perfect but I'm pretty grateful for what I have.  So, as I was lying there sick, it got me thinking about a few things….  (this is another one of those times when it seems like I’ve gone off the deep end with my writing but I promise it all ties in together….somehow….even if in a super small way!).

Growing up, I was never really been a fan of meat and tried numerous ways to get out of eating it.  When I was little and my parents made me sit at the table until I ate my meat, I would throw little pieces under the table when we weren’t looking.  This would have been a wonderful partnership for the dog and I except that the dog wasn’t allowed in the kitchen so eventually my mom caught on.   Then I tried hiding the meat in my napkin but that only worked if I did the dishes afterwards so I wouldn’t be discovered.  I hated doing dishes and had to do them frequently for chores so I figured I didn't want to take them on more than I had to, even if it would get me out of eating the nasty meat.  One lucky day I solved my problem, without even trying!  We were staying with my Aunt C. who was serving kabobs for dinner.  Kabobs with STEAK.  I had realized that I tasted less when I swallowed chunks of meat whole instead of chewing them.   On this occasion I did just that, only this time the beef chunk stayed lodged in my throat.  I realized what was happening and froze.  I reached up to feel my throat because it felt HUGE with that chunk sticking out of it.  I must have had a shocked/confused look on my face because something alerted my mother that something was up.  Of course she didn't know what was up and began questioning me, confused as to why I wasn't answering.   Aunt C., on the other hand, knew exactly what was up and sprang into action.  She did the Heimlich Maneuver and I was as good as new.  (Thanks again Aunt C!) This is what finally caused my mother to stop making me eat meat.  Score one for me! 

Eventually I began to be even more grossed out by meat and after reading a book that was probably written by PETA, I decided I was going to officially be a vegetarian.  I announced this to my parents who though I was nuts.  The worst though was when I told my grandfather.  He had earned his living by managing a meat packing plant so the idea that his granddaughter was a vegetarian was just preposterous.  I was probably a vegetarian for about a week, and then for quite awhile I only ate chicken (still calling myself vegetarian though of course).  After a point I began telling people that I was a vegetarian but I did eat chicken…and bacon…and every now and again beef if it was covered in seasonings.  I apologize for my lack of commitment to any REAL vegetations who may be reading this. 

During all of this, my hate for touching meat remained intact, as it still does.  I refused to even touch the packages of chicken in the grocery store for fear that the nasty uncooked germier would attack me...or something like that.  I vividly remember my mother telling me that I better just get used to touching meat because when I got married my husband would expect me to cook dinner for him, including ground beef, steaks, and bacon.  I, being the all-knowing teenager that I was, informed her that my husband would be the one to touch/cut the raw meat and he would be perfectly fine with whatever I cooked him.  I believe this was the part where she began laughing hysterically.  I, however was not laughing.  In the words of Barney Stinson from “How I Met Your Mother”, CHALLENGE ACCEPTED!  When I want something I set out to get it, usually succeeding (sometimes then realizing that I didn't really want it in the first place though). 

Well, not only did I find myself a wonderful husband who is willing to touch the raw meat and eat what I cook, but he also takes care of me when I’m sick.   He sat by my side on Sunday (well more of behind me) and held my hair while I checked out the toilet.  He even skipped a workout on Monday to come home and take care of me.  It’s a good thing I found him because I do not do well with vomit at all.  He’s going to be amazing when our kids (don’t hold your breath – we have awhile still) are sick.  Not only did I find a raw meat touching man, but also a vomit cleaning up man!  So, I declare this a CHALLENGE COMPLETED!