They say the wife is always the last to know. I guess it’s true. I thought I knew him. We’ve been married for over 16 years, and have been part of each other’s lives for 19. Well, maybe I always knew but had somehow managed to ignore it. But I can’t ignore it anymore. I have to face it. My husband has a thing for Pop-tarts. And I had no idea at all. None.
How can this be? I try to provide a nutritious start for him everyday. Every single day. I will always wonder at what point the Cheerios didn’t do it for him anymore.
I’ve been finding evidence for years. I’d go out to his car and find a shiny, metallic wrapper, a few crumbs, a receipt for a toaster pastry I never bought. It never occurred to me that he loved them. I thought it was a passing thing. Like maybe he forgot to eat breakfast and had to stop at Food City on the way to work to grab something to eat. But it was never random breakfast foods. I see that now. It was always Pop-tarts, or if times were tight, a store brand. And I’m not naïve enough to think that it was only occasionally. I think he was intentionally skipping breakfast so he’d have an excuse to get his grub on Pop-tart style.
So where do I go from here? How do I get past this secret life he has been leading for so many years? I’ve decided to try to meet his breakfast needs at home so he doesn’t go elsewhere. Yes, I’ve started purchasing Pop-tarts. I am not good at it yet. I know he likes blueberry. I went to the breakfast section at the store and found a box. But I got a box of 12 frosted blueberry in the store brand because it was actually cheaper than name brand. That was a mistake. Apparently, the frosting makes them too sweet and less appealing. I’m committed to trying again. We are going to make this thing work.
I no longer care about saving money. I will buy him the name brand if that is what keeps him happy. I don’t want him going elsewhere to get his high-fructose needs met. Together we are moving into a new phase of our marriage, an honest phase. Maybe soon I’ll be able to tell him that I don’t like mayonnaise.