Dating and other bad habits.

I realize my last post was about fish and so I apologize for two fish-related posts back to back.

So, uh, I’ve been dating a man for a little while now.

I know!

And I haven’t written about him because I’ve been enjoying and keeping him all to myself. I wasn’t ready to share.  I’m still not sure that I am, but here goes nothing:

The man hates fish.

I know!

I lived in Alaska. I remember buying fish straight off the dock. Growing up, every year my family birthday dinner was always at my favorite seafood restaurant. I love sushi, almost married a sushi chef for the love of crap. Fish and I, we are involved.

But it doesn’t matter.  None of it does.  He doesn’t care if I eat fish; he’ll even come with me and watch me do it. It’s just not for him. This, I can respect.

So tonight, I’m having some folks over for dinner. And I’m making several items, one of which is mussels. But I have no time to go to the store, so… Guess who’s buying me mussels?

“I can’t believe you’re buying fish for me,” I said to him, the guilt in my voice obvious. “You must really like me.”

“Yes, that’s your Valentine’s gift,” he replied.

It’s actually not a bad gift at all…