Shawarma

I love my husband. But we are opposites in so many things.  I'm the extravert, he's the introvert. I'm the loud one, he's the quiet one.  Some would say that's what makes us work. I would say that's what makes me want to choke him on a regular basis.

One of the many things that makes us different is that I like a variety of foods - spicy, sweet, tangy, whatever.  Hubby not so much.  As an adult, I will TRY new things.  He still clings to the "I don't like it" line when he's never tried whatever it is I'm convincing him to try.  He's a meat-and-potatoes kind of guy.  Fine.  Just don't fence ME in!

That being said, he notices when I have had something different. I brush my teeth, but he's like a blood hound.  If I've had something that has even the mildest hint of aroma, he will comment.  "What did you have for lunch?"  This happens frequently because, well, he's not got the adventurous taste buds I have.

One of my favs is chicken shawarma.  There are several Lebanese restaurants in the City so at lunch, sometimes I'll go grab a shawarma.  They are delish.  One particular day, I had shawarma.  I knew the comments would start when I got home from work, so to prepare, I sent Jamie a text to joke about what he'd no doubt smell.  Sums us up pretty well:

"I had shawarma for lunch so my breath is garlicky.  But I'd like you to put the moves on me later."

The response?  "Fine…  No kissing."

"Fine by me."

And that's how it's done.