Thursday, July 29, 2010


That's my husband: Half man. Half bear. Half pig.

I’ve already told you about the man part. Hunting, fishing, fighting, spitting, etc.

The bear component is pretty easily explained as well. He gives fantastic bear hugs. He has copious amounts of fur about his face and neck. (I’d rather believe he was part bear than accept the fact that he just refuses to shave the neard.) Once, when he was faced with what he thought was a bear (but which was actually just a mean old work crew boss in a gorilla suit), instead of cowering or running away, he bowed up like he was going to punch that bear in the face. That in itself deserves honorary half bear status.

I’d like to take the rest of my allotted time to address the pig portion.

Last night, Gary and I went to Texas Roadhouse because we had a gift card. We don’t eat there often, but the gift card was (surprise!) a gift from someone who knows we’re from Texas. We didn’t have the heart to tell her we’d never eaten at a Texas Roadhouse until after we moved to Colorado. Why would we when we were in such close proximity to Love & War in Texas? (If you live in the DFW area and you’ve never eaten there, please stop what you’re doing, get over there now and order the Presidio, TX Poblano. Also the ribs. Oh and the chicken fried steak. You’re gonna have a big dinner.)

Ok. I’ve been watching Gary eat for almost seven years. He ate dinner at my parents’ house nearly every night while we were dating. I later found out that he was also eating dinner at his parents’ house every night.

You would think the fact that I knew he was consuming two full meals each night (not to mention all the second and third helpings I witnessed him scarf down) might have prepared me for our life together. Even still, there are times when his ability to inhale food like oxygen still amazes and, let’s be honest, scares me a little.

We got to the restaurant after what had been, at least for Gary, a very long day at work. He had worked up a considerable appetite, which explains the following: We ordered a Baby Blossom (I had to shout Gary down because originally he wanted to order the regular sized Cactus Blossom...which feeds 4-6 people). Gary ordered Chicken Fried Chicken; I ordered Portobello Mushroom Chicken. Each of our meals came with two sides.

So here’s what Gary ate last night: 5/6 of the Baby Blossom, his gigantic Chicken Fried Chicken, ½ my cup of chili, an overflowing side of loaded mashed potatoes, about a cup of green beans, and 1/3 of my sizable piece of chicken. Oh and two rolls with cinnamon butter. When he asked me if I wanted dessert, I found myself unable to formulate a response. I just sat there gaping at him with my jaw on the table.

Gosh. Writing it all out like that doesn’t really seem to do it justice. It was a freakin’ lot of food, okay?

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