I think I'm a Food Snob

Last week my husband looked up at me, an easy smile on his face.

"Lets go out to eat." He said. "I'm hungry."

I frowned. "Where?" I asked.

He looked thoughtful. "I feel like Taco Bell. Or Jersey Mikes."

My frown deepened. "Yuck! You know I hate fast food and I also want to avoid processed meat. Remember, I'm pregnant?" I pointed to the aforementioned bean in my belly like my avoidance in eating out of a drive through window had everything to do with my delicate condition.

We both knew it didn't.

"You never want to eat where I want to eat." my husband whined said diplomatically.

I rolled my eyes at him. "I ate at McDonald's last month with you." I remind him, turning back to whatever I was doing on Instagram.

He sighed. "That was because I asked you to as part of my Christmas present."

That is true. He knows I hate eating junk food. It had been about 8 months since I'd last eaten any and even then he'd had to force me. When we go to fast food places, I sit with him and mostly read the food labels passive aggressively at him. Recently he started leaving me at home for these exertions, much to my utter relief.

"Can't we go to Panera?" I ask, "or Zoe's Kitchen?'

"Uhhhhhggggggggggh" My husband said. That isn't even a word, I thought to myself while Instagaming a picture of my budding belly against the sofa. "I hate their small portions and they never give you enough meat. Also, they are expensive."

And so the argument goes. It usually ends with my husband ordering a pizza on his phone from Papa Johns. On this particular day, while he did that I heated up a bowl of organic chicken noodle soup for myself, glaring at him over the stainless steal spoon and the kitchen lights. How could he eat that? I certainly wasn't going to, and he knew it. I stopped eating pizza two months ago.

When he went to pick up the pizza is when I finally realized it. I'm a food snob. I mean, I don't even like going out to eat! Who wants to trust another person with their food? AND it's not even organic! Recently I'd even noticed that most places put to much sugar in their food. It drives me nuts. You try giving up processed sugar for a year and then tell me how a prepackaged muffin tastes! It tastes like sugar. That's what. I like my muffin to taste like muffin, thank you very much, and not like diabetes.

I wonder if something is wrong with me as I eat my soup. Am I to extreme? No, no--of course not--I tell myself as I scroll through Pinterest's "Paleo" section. I still eat brown rice. And black organic beans. After all, I do care about what I put in my body. I do want to grow a healthy human. Therefore it must be my husband who is insane! I mean, just yesterday he bought Doritos. I told him I would make turnip chips in the oven again, and can you believe it he stuck his tongue out at me and bought another bag! The nerve!

By the time my husband came home with the pizza I knew I might need some help. And thus, yesterday I ate some birthday cake that my husband bought me from Fresh Market. And it wasn't even organic. I may have cried a little on the inside.