SMBHD - Thinks He's Going to Starve

For someone who is A - so skinny, B - used to live off of cereal and deli meat as a bachelor, C - is married to someone who likes to cook (and eat), my husband is apparently, for reasons unknown, TERRIFIED that he is going to starve/miss a meal. He won't admit this, but let me just show you some of the evidence. Just a side note: I make dinner, or decide what we're doing for dinner, every night. Lunches he makes himself (sandwiches), except on the weekends. Then that is also my job. My husband does not cook. Ever. Except one time (and it was actually really good), and he got so stressed out doing it that he vowed never to do it again (although I think he may be planning to cook me dinner on my birthday!). So I cook, he cleans. Works for me. Also, we do 95% of our grocery shopping at Target. Now back to the evidence that my husband is either a secret fat kid, or is scared to death he'll starve.

~When he moved into our place, I had already lived there for about a month and a half. When he first got there, he would make comments about all the food I had in the fridge, freezer, pantry, and baker's rack. He said we could probably live off of it for a year. Fast forward 9 months. Now, when our freezer is anything less than filled to the brim, he has a panic attack. "WE NEED TO GO TO THE STORE, WE NEED MEAT!" he says. Like the apocalypse is coming and we're going to die of starvation if we don't go to the store and buy a pound of ground beef.

~If we're going away for a weekend, he has to plan out when we'll have time to go to Target when we get back or, god forbid, the week after. He used to make fun of me for going to Target every week when he was in the UK and I was here. "What could you possibly need from Target every single week?" he'd say. Now, he's the one with the Target obsession... well, for the groceries at least.

~Before I go to bed at night, he wants to know what we're having for dinner the next day. If I say I don't know, I think he continues to think about it, which then leads to him texting or emailing me multiple times the next day asking if I know what we're having for dinner yet. Which, inevitably, will result in me responding "NO!!!".

~When we plan trips like, say... going camping in JULY, he wants to know what we're going to eat out the wildnerness. I told him we would be hunting and gathering for our food. I'm still not sure if he believed me at first or not, but eventually I got a "No, seriously." and I had to inform him that there are these things called "coolers" and that you pack food and drink in them.

~When we have tickets to a Phillies' game, concert, etc., he always needs to know what we're going to do for food before the event (because we usually leave straight from work and don't go home). Sometimes it's as soon as the tickets are bought (2 months ahead of time), but at the very least it's 2 weeks before the event (except if it's a last minute plan, then he asks immediately). He basically needs to know the food schedule as much as he needs to know any other plans in his life. And if I don't know, he keeps asking, so I've started alternating between a pizza place and a bar called Good Dog. Funny story - we went to Dollar Dog Night at the Phillies' a couple weeks ago, and leading up to it, at least a couple times, he would go, "What are we going to ea- oh, right, dollar dogs." Then he'd get all excited because, yes, they are $1 hot dogs and he wanted at least 3. The funny part is that the question of what we're going to eat must be such a reflex that he just couldn't stop himself from asking!

~When I go away, we have to stock up on oatmeal and mac and cheese ahead of time. From Target, of course. When I return, he whimpers and gives me puppy dog eyes because he missed me had to eat mac and cheese all weekend. I guess that means he likes my cooking!

~He brings snacks when he goes shopping with me and my mom. This is actually valid because my mom is notorious for just not remembering to eat when we're doing something. Usually that something is shopping. Then we'll end up eating lunch at like 3:30 in the afternoon, if at all. The funny thing about this one is just seeing him hop in the car with his little plastic bag of granola bar, chips, and some almonds or something.

Maybe it's the years of living on his own, where he ate cereal, oatmeal, and random other things that men who don't cook eat when they're bachelors (except when they go home for mom's cooking), that now he's like a rabid animal when it comes to food. It's completely unfounded.

He calls me a "feeder", but really, he's just an eater. He's the one who needs to know when, what, where, and how we're eating at all times. But, yet, I'm the feeder... riiiight.


-C
xxx