We sit down to eat. I just made chicken stir fry. Smells good, tastes good. We pray and scarf it down. Two bites in, I notice the jelly and butter on the table, and my husband looks over.
"Want a biscuit?" He had brought the leftover biscuits from yesterday's meal in.
I look at him incredulously.
"Babe, you don't eat biscuits with stir fry," I say.
"What?" Justin questions innocently.
"You just don't do that. It's too many starches. We already have rice and chow mien noodles. Plus, it's hick."
So, he didn't eat biscuits. I told him this whole situation was so funny to me that I would have to blog about it. These type of things happen frequently. For example, don't wipe off the counter with the towel that you wipe your face with. Or, don't use the same knife for the butter and jelly. (On another note, why are you using a knife for jelly?) But then he complains about me sweeping up my nail clippings instead of doing over the trash can. For that one though, he doesn't clip his nails (at least toenails) nearly as often as I do mine.
Marriage. Two different people raised different ways coming together. Amazing.
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