I couldn’t help but laugh. Actually, I had to stifle my laugh since our server was still within earshot.
My husband and I were out for our bi-weekly dinner date night at a local restaurant (which shall remain nameless to avoid trouble), and our meals had just arrived. I had ordered the special of the night, spaghetti and meatballs made with fresh, local ingredients (and a hint of mint, if I’m not mistaken). My husband, however, ordered steak, though I must note that there appeared to be more plate than meal.
Now, my husband has a rather large frame. He has broad shoulders, thick, muscular legs, and is 6-foot-3. His meal, on the other hand, consisted of two small, peeled carrots, one long-stemmed broccoli floret, and a handful of baby potatoes that were roasted (quite nicely, since he offered me to try one) along with his steak that was a little smaller than the size of my palm, not his. For my husband, this meal was comparable to dropping a Saskatoon berry into a large bucket.
I felt bad. Not just because I could finally laugh fully, but because my meal was considerably larger. It was placed inside a bowl with sides that were higher on two opposite ends, with a generous portion of noodles and sauce along with three or four meatballs.
“Would you like some of my spaghetti?” I asked, just as he was finishing his famine.
“No, it’s okay.” he replied.
“What else have you eaten today?”
“Aside from this?” He stared off for a second, thoughtfully. “A can of Coke, I think. That’s it.”
I rolled my eyes internally. I would have been on his case for not eating enough, but I too tend to not eat a lot throughout the day since I find myself so busy taking care of our daughter. Food slips my mind, and in turn, he scolds me.
“Well, you should eat something when we get home.”
“No doubt, I will.” He replied.
Though I had finished my entire bowl of pasta and was feeling rather full, I checked the restaurant’s display case of desserts and decided to order a slice of cinnamon bun cheesecake to share in an effort to sneak some more calories into my husband’s stomach.
We both agreed that our next date night dinner will be at restaurant that we knew served bigger portions.