Split or Share:
My Boo is a Saint! When we go out to eat, I will usually order the veggie plate with grilled chicken and he will order the chicken fried anything with cream gravy, fried okra, and mashed potatoes. He knows full well, that I will want a bite (or two) of his and he’s okay with that. “I’m a sharer, Boo.” he’ll say, “But, not a splitter.”
Sometimes I want to split. “Let’s order the filet and split it,” I’ll suggest. “I want my own filet.” he’ll say. “You get what you want.” We have friends who split. I don’t know why, but it seems sweet and romantic; not to mention economical and lower in calories. It’s a sign that they ‘agree’ on everything and even their taste buds are in love. You think I’m probably reading too much into it????
Sometimes I try to dance around it by saying, “Why don’t you get the filet and I’ll get the salmon and we can share?” He is not fooled by my tactics and will readily say he doesn’t want salmon but I am welcome to a bite of his steak.
I have to admit that it’s one of the things that first attracted me to him. He shares his food. He doesn’t mind if I stick my fork onto his plate to taste just a bite. He never says a word when I use my fingers to pluck a piece of fried okra from his bowl at Luby’s. He always gives me the 1st bite of his dessert and he’ll even give me the best bite of his hamburger. And, when I foolishly say I don’t want any popcorn at the movie, he’s already planning to set it between us. He’s a saint, really.
To all of you splitters out there….I applaud you, but I’m sticking with my sharer. He knows I will most likely order the healthy option and yet want a few bites of his delicious unhealthy choice. By the way, I always ask if he wants a bite of mine, too, but usually, he declines. That Boo….he really is a Saint!
Sittin' Ugly Sistahs 