Friday, May 21, 2010

But ...

I once dated a guy with an ingrained aversion to spreads, spreads, never did he eat toast or a sandwich with any spread whatsoever bar perhaps butter

... but what is toast without a hearty coating of vegemite or jam?

Then I dated a guy who strongly attested that he never had nor would drink hot drinks. Or soups. Something about hot liquid in his mouth gave him the heebies

... but what is a miserable wintery day if you can't cradle a hot cuppa in your hands?

Please, don't get me wrong, I didn't hold either of these curious idiosyncrasies against either man, in fact, in both cases it was they who revoked said dating.

But I consider it a blessing in disguise as my absolute favourite morning ritual on rainy days, at the moose and pooses, on trips to the countryside and when I was on vacation in Bali, is to drink cups of fresh, hot coffee and munch toasted 5 grain with lashings of butter and jam. Nom nom nom.

It just would never have worked out.

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