I am not a very good predictor of human behavior. After five plus years of marriage I am only now beginning to see patterns in Chup's demeanor. Is this good news for my husband?
This evening as I was making our favorite dinner (grilled salmon marinated in A-1, couscous and mixed greens--heavy on the balsamic) I remembered that the last two salmon meals left Chup ravishingly hungry four hours later. I don't cook very often, so it always hurts a little to see my sincere attempts go short. Especially when it involves a Wendy's drive-thru.
"You are going to get hungry later." I said to Chup as we sat down to eat. "Should I have made more food?"
"No. No. That's not true." He said eating a cucumber.
After dinner was done (a little quiet tonight) and dishes were in the sink, we took a short trip to Target for returns. Chup checked out the electronics while I took back two ill-fitting dresses (hard to judge these days). Back at home we shared a three-tiered chocolate mousse torte and we watched the Tostitos Fiesta Bowl. Two hours post-dinner I checked on Chup to see about his appetite.
"Doing well." was his reply.
But around three hours post-dinner Chup was in the kitchen opening cupboards.
"Do we have any Tostitos?" He yelled out to me.
"No . . . you're just being affected by the commercials." I said back remembering the four-hundred-and-seventy-two Tostitos ads we had viewed so far while watching the game. Admittedly I was also wishing to for some chips to dip in cheap salsa.
In the second half of the game we watched the Taco Bell commercial involving a craving pregnant wife and her obliging husband. I looked over at Chup. He was the pregnant wife.
"Mmmm Taco Bell." Chup moaned. "Crunchy."
When West Virginia had decidedly beaten Oklahoma four hours aprés diner, I could see my husband hungry for a gastronomical victory as well. He shuffled around the kitchen some more and mentioned that we really "should get to Costco really soon for pita chips and gyoza."
"Ok." I said because there was nothing else to say. I felt like West Virginia having myself won a small battle of the sexes.
The next time I make salmon I'm going to order pizza (still makes me heave) to be delivered exactly four hours later. Just to really make my point.