Last week when I informed my husband that I was cutting gluten, dairy and red meat out of my diet, he was surprisingly supportive. After all, he’s suffered from my allergies almost as much as I have, with both of us losing sleep as I’ve sniffled, sneezed, coughed and hacked my way through many a night.
Since then, I’ve served a number of dinners that have undoubtedly pushed his patience. The man does love red meat, after all, and if left to himself would gladly eat it three meals a day… plus snacks. Going without it for one night? That’s fine — he knows he can make do the next day with a double cheeseburger at lunch. But seven days of it? That, as he’s since told me, is just downright cruel.
Yes, I know I’d initially planned to serve him red meat on the side. He’s reminded me of that fact, too. But as the person doing the cooking as well as most of the dinner dishes, it only took one night for me to realize that making a separate dinner for him (and a third for our son, who eats dinner most nights before we do) was just too much.
As his patience has worn thin, so has his support. The first night, he smiled and complimented the spinach and soy cheese frittata I’d served alongside a tossed salad. The second night when I served chicken pad thai (which uses rice noodles), he cooed over the tiny bits of grilled chicken breast without pointing out that I used 1/4 the “normal” amount of meat in favor of including more vegetables. The third night? Well, that’s when he started playing dirty.
Out came the ice cream, chocolate sauce and marshmallow topping… with a dusting of crushed Oreos, all of which he proceeded to eat while making little cooing sounds as we watched a movie together.
But you know what? I can play dirty, too. I told him that if he manages to do a month’s worth of meat free dinners with me — without binging on no-no snacks in my presence — I’ll return the favor by letting him watch football each Sunday without bitching about it. (No, I’m still not going to agree to spending money on Cowboys tickets but he can watch them from home all he wants.)
What I didn’t count on was how sneaky he can be when he wants to: he’s planning to invite his friends over to watch football this Sunday, and pointed out that I couldn’t tell them they weren’t bringing nacho chips and dip into my house.
Grrrr.
Veronika 
Chubby Mommy