“Wow. That really looks good, but it’s way more
than I can eat. I’ll just have a bite of
yours.” I had to admit what she wanted
looked delicious. It was a double
chocolate cake with a rich pudding middle and drizzled with thick chocolate
syrup. I gained five pounds just by
looking at it. However, it wasn’t the
dessert I had been planning on ordering.
“Oh, what are you having?” Her voice had a disappointed tone. I had settled on a cherry smothered
cheesecake with the syrup oozing off the sides and onto the plate. “Well, I’ll just have a bite of that then.”
I glanced down at the menu. The cheesecake wasn’t that big in the
picture. “It looks too small for two
people. If you want that chocolate dish,
then get it, honey.”
“Oh, I couldn’t possibly eat all
of that alone. I just wanted a bite of
yours.” I had told her to go ahead and
order her own, that it didn’t matter how much she ate. She couldn’t waste that much food, however,
especially with starving kids in third world countries. I’m not sure what that had to do with
anything, but parents have used it on children for decades, so it seems to be a
conditioned response. My sharing a
dessert wasn’t going to get food in someone’s stomach three time zones
away.
The waitress came over and waited
for our order. In the end I chose the
dessert she wanted and “shared.” Of course,
sharing meant that I lost half my dessert as her “just a bite” was really
several. It wasn’t too bad since I didn’t
want that chocolate waist spreader, anyway.
If I’m not having food stolen
from me, I’m having it dumped on my plate. When the girls can’t finish something they
assume I’m going to want to eat it. My
plate gets piled high with half a burger, leftover steak, or a quarter of a
baked potato. I’m amazed that I even
want dessert when it’s all said and done.
Apparently my devouring their leftovers helps them resist because it’s
my job to get the offending food out of sight before they nibble away on it.
Men eat while women pretend they
never do. I don’t know if they think
they’re fooling us or what, but we know women consume food because there are
items in the fridge that we would never purchase. Men do not voluntarily buy turkey bacon. Why? Because
it’s not bacon! To be honest, I’m not
even sure if it classifies as turkey.
Even the girls have ceased calling it bacon and have started referring
to it as breakfast meat, which sounds ominous at best. Now, don’t get me wrong; I’m all about eating
healthy. However, there is a limit to
what I will sacrifice. Real bacon is one
of those things.
Ice cream is another. When I ask for a bowl of Chunky Monkey, I
mean a real bowl. I do not mean a shot
glass. I want a dish, not a sample. I really hate it when people try to determine
how much fills up my tank or what I need in the consumption department. My belly will tell me when it’s had enough
and if it’s more than you think I should eat, oh well. It doesn’t need outside assistance or your judgment. Grant it, there are people who need that help
as they lack any self-control, but I am not one of them, so please leave my
dessert alone.
One of the great pleasures in
life is the food we eat, the flavors, the textures, the whole dining with
friends experience. While it may be
romantic to share a dessert, it is not filling.
I’ll buy flowers, enjoy a midnight stroll along the beach, and even
sacrifice my jacket in the middle of a storm.
However, if you wish to share desserts we’re still buying two and we’ll
divide up both. I see no sense in
swinging into McDonald’s for a couple of McDoubles after a $100 dinner because
I’m still hungry.
Men and women view food
differently. Women see it as something
to be sampled in small dainty bites with feminine grace. Men see it as something to be devoured with
caveman grunts and complimentary belches afterward. It’s really a night and day comparison. To women it’s a ballet while men experience it
as a football game. For the most part
men will eat just about anything that’s placed in front of us as long as it’s real
meat and there’s plenty of it. While men
don’t mind sharing their tools, we want to keep our desserts to ourselves. Really, it’s okay to order your own. We won’t think any less of you. Actually, we’ll be so happy to have our own
dessert we’ll even buy you more flowers.
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