Battle of the Sexes? No, Battle of the Salads!

Some spouses argue over sex or socks on the floor. Not us. We constantly squabble over salad. Yes, it’s the sad and sordid truth. We are sorry salad squabblers.

Are you familiar with the term “salad days?” It comes from Shakespeare and refers to a time of youthful carefree innocence, idealism, and pleasure.

But at our house, instead of salad days, we almost-oldsters battle over the greens.

You see, I adore arugula. Handsome Hubby, however, is an ardent arugula antagonist.

He does alas sit squarely in the kale camp. I, of course, cannot abide by kale. I kale cannot! It is roughage fit for rabbits, not humans.

This battle makes for nightly mayhem. It’s a veritable salad smackdown.

I’d say I’m hopping mad over the situation, but since I’m still recuperating from that blasted double-foot surgery, the best I can do is limp-hop and that’s just plain pathetic!

As I see it, there are only two possible solutions. The first is divorce. Even I think that is extreme, although a salad guy on the side sounds a tad tempting! (Definitely more tempting than a kale salad, that’s for sure.) But what’s my pick-up line? I’m rusty on the dating scene. “Hey, baby, you want to nibble on my arugula?” Now that sounds weird!

Option two is carbohydrates. But honestly, how much pasta can one household ingest? Although a little Mac & Cheese does sound appealing, especially with a nice pear, blue cheese, and arugula salad! Oh, wait. That gets me back to full circle to The Battle of the Salads.

Battle of the Salads & More

Because of this salad stalemate, we often skip dinner and jump right to dessert. But still, we find no common ground!

HH favors fruity desserts, like tarts and apple pie. I’m a chocolate cake girl.

As a “compromise,” he suggests donuts. Donuts at dinner? Seriously? This is a massive dining “do not!”

Putting the dubious timing issue aside, HH prefers jelly-filled donuts. Yuck! Why not just eat a peanut butter and jelly sandwich? So, I counter, suggesting we select the more dessert-like custard-filled donuts. This sound suggestion is soundly rebuffed.

No matter what we do or say, neither our meals — nor our middles — can be saved! Is our marriage in jeopardy? Oh, probably not, but this much is clear. Our salad days in the true Shakespearean sense are gone!