It seems to me that it ought to be a fact of nature that our loved ones share our likes and dislikes. I don't think this is hopelessly egocentric- it's just that I can't quite wrap my mind around Robert liking things I don't particularly care for, or even more bizarrely, disliking things that I love. I mean, he loves me, right? So shouldn't it follow that he loves everything that I love? Of course he should.
And yet, he doesn't. Oh, I'll grant you that he's a remarkably tolerant person. He's pleased that I adore knitting and yarn. He finds my weird food habits endearing. He's been ready and willing to experiment with new foods of all sorts, and as a result now loves many things he'd never seen before we met (mainly of the vegetable persuasion). But still, like all couples I suppose, we have our sticking points.
I'll address these one at a time. So, first up: potatoes. Robert doesn't like potatoes. How can a person not like potatoes? They are starchy carbohydrate-y goodness, able to adapt to any number of cuisines and flavors. But no, says my husband. In his world they are only good if they are fried or, occasionally, mashed. Any other style of potato makes him sad. I, however, loves potatoes. I love them fried, of course (with Veganaise, YUM!). I love them mashed, baked, roasted, stewed, cubed, shredded, whole, hot, and cold. Seriously, potatoes??
Next: lavender. Now I can (unlike potatoes) see why a person might not like lavender. It has a very unique scent and unique things tend to polarize people. Robert finds lavender icky. I find it beautiful as both a flower and a scent, and it reminds me of home. Lavender perfumes (from real perfume masters, not crappy mall fragrances!) make me feel grounded, serene, earthy, and radiant. And apparently they make my husband want to run away!
Finally: ginger. This is a little closer to potatoes for me. I mean, yeah, ginger is a strong flavor, but...but...ginger ale! Gingerbread! Candied ginger! Pickled ginger! Delicious ginger scented items! Nope, says Robert. Ginger has a particular sticking point in my psychological inability to understand that Robert dislikes things that I love. Every winter (and usually more than once I'm afraid) I bake gingerbread. And it is delicious. And I am confused when my darling, sweet hounding husbad eats it only occasionally, in dainty pieces normally suited to 3 year olds. And I ask, and he reminds me that he doesn't like ginger. And I am confused anew, insisting that I'm sure he's mentioned liking the gingerbread at that place in Austin- ergo, he must like ginger. But no. We had this very conversation last night (the parsnip cake is strongly flavored with ginger). I sat on the couch, sputtering in shock and wailing, "How can you not like ginger?" To which Robert, equally in shock that I couldn't remember the conversation we'd had about this last month, shot back, "Ginger is like PEOPLE!"
That brought me up short. "What?", I said. "How is ginger like people??"
"Oh, you know", said Robert, laughing and turning red.
"No, I don't know", I said.
"It's just...I don't like it!", Robert manged to say between bouts of laughter.
"I'm totally putting this on my blog", I said. "How can you not like ginger?"