So, do you remember when I sparked a bit of a pronunciation debate? (He still pronounces “syrup” wrong.) Or the Twitter debate about whether you keep pancake syrup in the cabinet or the fridge?
The other night, Husband was grumbling because the lid of the (grape) jelly jar was stuck. And I mean stuck. He finally got it open, and I pointed out the goo in the threads of the lid and jar and said maybe that was the cause. I wondered how in the world it got so bad. Husband is the only one who uses grape jelly at our house. (Caedmon prefers peach on his PB&J’s, and I’m a strawberry jam girl. Honor doesn’t talk yet, so she just eats whatever’s fixed. I’m sure she’ll have a preference soon enough.)
And then I found out how it happened.
Husband was using a butter knife to get jelly out of the jar.
A butter knife, y’all. Oh, the horror.
I’ve never once in my life (that I can recall) used a butter knife to get jelly out of a jar. Because, well, it makes a mess. How can you expect to control jelly with a knife? You just can’t. He said that he’s always used a butter knife for jelly. And that it was the blasted threads in the plastic jelly jar that were the problem, not the knife usage.
Denial. It’s not just a river in Egypt.
And for the past 13 years, I must not have seen Husband use a knife to get jelly, because surely I would’ve corrected him. A spoon. You use a spoon.
These are the things that aren’t covered in marriage counseling or any of the bagillion marriage books out there. One day, you might have to come to the realization that you’ve married someone who’s been getting jelly out of the jar all wrong for his entire life. Or that says you should keep pancake syrup in the fridge. Ugh. How does one deal with such a thing?
I’ll tell you how.
You buy a second bottle of syrup for the fridge and stick to eating strawberry jam. It’s cheaper than counseling. And much easier than convincing him that he’s wrong.