My cheatin’ heart

I hate to admit, but I did something a little wicked tonight…I cheated on my hubby. I didn’t start out today with that intention, I swear. But after the day I had, I couldn’t help myself. I had a craving that needed to be fed. I tried to hold back, I really did. But before I knew it, I was in the car and on my way.

Minutes later, I pulled in to the lot. I sighed deeply, part of me knowing I shouldn’t go in, but it was too late. I had made my choice. I had to go through with it.

Plus, I had a coupon.

Wait, coupon? Huh? No, dear readers, I am not in any sort of moral quandry. In fact, I even had my son with me. My indiscretion was not the carnal kind…it was the gastrointestinal kind. I went out for Chinese without my husband.

Now, for most people, this would be no big deal, but in my household, this is a serious offense. See, as a rule, I hate Chinese food and never, ever, ever want it. My husband, on the other hand, really likes it and often wants it. I always shoot him down though. It’s not due to any intentional cruelty. It’s just that the thought of going out for Chinese food never sounds appealing to me.

It’s odd, because when I was younger, I didn’t mind it too much. Not that we had it very often. My step-dad was always a meatloaf and lima bean kind of guy (super ick) and my mom rarely did anything he didn’t want, so my exposure was very limited. I think I had garlic chicken three or four times between the ages of about birth and 14. However, every year when I went to the county fair with my aunt, we’d always stop by the Twin Happiness booth and get some sesame chicken. I liked it just fine. Heck, every now and then I’d even go out with her to the restaurant. They had a great noodle dish I liked (which I’ve never found anywhere else–same with their version of sesame chicken).

Sometime in college, something changed. I’m not sure if I just got burned out on it, or if it was the crappy quality of the giant platters we got for $4 from the local take out place, but I just stopped wanting it. Then, I started actively not wanting it. Anytime someone suggested it, I would shake my head and ask for another option. I still do, despite the fact that around the corner from us is what everyone I know says is one of the best places in the city.

And I’ll even admit it isn’t horrible. In fact, the last time I gave in and let my husband order, I ate about 10 bites before giving up. However, being too darn cheap to let an entire container of food go to waste, I tried it again the next day and actually liked it even better. I’m not sure how in the world letting the food congeal and sit in the fridge made it better, but it did. I know some people swear by leftovers, but once again, as a rule, I don’t eat leftovers. It’s not a snobby thing. I don’t think leftovers are beneath me or anything. In fact, if I make them, I eat them often. However, almost nothing I take home from an eatery tastes good the next day, so I usually pawn them off on my husband (and he LOVES food and eats EVERYTHING, so he never complains).

What is odd about me, is that while I don’t like the super greasy Chinese food in most buffet type places, and I’m not even super fond of the “good stuff” at the place around the corner, I do really like crappy mall Chinese food like Panda Express. I have no idea why, but every now and then Bourbon chicken (or as they call it, Mandarin chicken) is good. Tonight, I actually craved it (granted, I am 9 1/2 months pregnant).

So, I packed up my son and headed over to the stand alone store down the street from us. I loaded a plate with Mandarin and orange chicken, tons of rice and some spring rolls. I got my son a side of crab rangoon and gave him a bunch of my rice and chicken. We even ate outside, despite the fact  it was a bit chilly and I ended up putting my jacket on him since he refused to go inside to finish his food. It ended up being cute since when he stood up, the jacket reached his ankles.

The upside of my food trist is that my husband actually doesn’t like Panda Express at all, so he won’t be fuming. He might be a bit disappointed that I had some sort of Chinese, even what he considers crappy Chinese without him.

This will cure me of my need for anything resembling Chinese food for at least a few more months. It’ll make him sad, but as I keep reminding him, he can always take our son to go get his fix. I’m just as happy making some Stovetop stuffing and spinach for dinner.

Yeah, I’m odd, I know it!

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Filed under food, married life, my childhood, my son, products, ramblings, what makes me me

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