Thursday, January 1, 2009

Happy anniversary, honey

Today marks a special occasion in my relationship with my husband. It’s not our wedding anniversary or the anniversary of our first date. It’s the one-year anniversary of the day we saw the true depth my pregnancy hormones could take me and it all centers around mashed potatoes.

I knew relatively early that I was pregnant. I was probably just shy of 4 weeks. I spent about two weeks smugly proclaiming that I felt fine. No sickness. No fatigue. This was easy. Then at 6 weeks I got sick. Bad. I couldn’t keep anything down except carrots and Clementine oranges. I was sure my child was going to come out the hue of an Oompa Loompa. My morning sickness lasted for the first five months and returned for the last two.

I spent much of my time home on the couch while my husband took care of everything around the house. I felt like such a bum but the thought of food made me sick and I was so tired I could barely get up. If, by chance, I did regain my appetite it didn’t last long. My husband once brought home McDonald’s for his dinner. At that moment I was hungry so I ate it all. And then promptly threw it up. (He is very patient with me. He didn't say a word and just went back to McDonald's for more).

This brings me to New Year’s Day 2008. After weeks of being unable to do much more than throw up and sleep, I decided to make a traditional New Year’s dinner for my husband – pork and sauerkraut. I also planned rolls, mashed potatoes and green beans. Because I hadn't been in the kitchen or at the grocery store much, my husband had to go to the store multiple times for me because I kept forgetting different ingredients. He finally proclaimed he would not be going back.

When I went to mash the potatoes, I realized we were out of butter. My husband said we could not possibly have potatoes without butter but he held firm that he would not go back to the store. Of course an argument ensued. He finally relented and left, only to return 10 minutes later with a bag from KFC.

He didn’t tell me what was in said bag but I assumed there were mashed potatoes. Feeling hormonal, sick and tired from making dinner, I began dumping my unmashed potatoes down the garbage disposal. I admit, this was a bit rash but I was annoyed that he hadn't gone to the store to get butter.

When I opened the KFC bag, I found green beans and little packets of butter.

Here's the conversation that ensued:
Me: Why did you get green beans? We already have green beans!
Him: Why did you dump the potatoes?!
Me: Because I thought you bought mashed potatoes.
Him: Why did you dump the potatoes?!
Me: Why do you keep asking me that?
Him: Why did you dump the potatoes?!
Me: Because I thought you bought mashed potatoes. Why do you keep asking me that?
(insert brief silence here)
Him: Why did you dump the potatoes?!

You can imagine the shrillness and volume increased as the conversation continued.

At this point, I had two raw potatoes in my hands, contemplating how much time a judge would give a pregnant woman for throwing potatoes at her husband’s head.

Finally, he reasoned that to get the little butter packets from KFC, he had to buy something. So he bought green beans.

I proclaimed the entire dinner was ruined because we didn't have mashed potatoes and began sobbing. I ran upstairs weeping like someone had just told me my entire family and all of my friends had been killed. Seriously. I was hysterical. I could not stop crying. All the work and energy down the drain – literally.

My husband fixed a plate and went to eat in his man cave. In his defense, this was the best move. I was beyond reason and I probably would have thrown something at him had he come after me.

Right before the point of hyperventilating, I calmed down and went downstairs to talk. We kind of chuckled at the foolishness of it all but to this day, we disagree on who was right.

The story has become somewhat of a legend in our families.

To commemorate this event, we've decided that we will always eat KFC mashed potatoes for New Year's Day.

And I still say I am right - it would have made more sense to buy mashed potatoes than green beans.


HereWeGoAJen said...

Hmm, I think he should have bought biscuits. KFC biscuits are pretty good...

Jennifer said...

Oh HORMONES. This is fabulous. Reminds me of my post-partum breakdown over beans in my burrito.

It's amazing any of us survive pregnancy and early parenthood. Especially the husbands. Geez.