The Good Stuff
I love a good Trader Joe’s visit. I don’t get there often, as it’s 35 minutes away. Sometimes, I forego the laundry and morning run I had planned after dropping the kids off at school. I decided I’d rather take on a three-hour shopping trip between driving and such so I can buy items that make me feel healthier than I am. Since I don’t go often, I go a little overboard when I go. I buy all the kale, the kale that ends up going bad because we don’t use it. I buy bouquets of decently priced flowers, coconut body butter, rose-water spray for my face (verdict is still out if this is making me look younger), the peaches n’ cream yogurt my kids love, orange chicken for easy weeknight dinners, inexpensive wine, cauliflower rice, steel-cut oatmeal, sweet n’ spicy jalapenos, and of course the jalapeno cilantro hummus.
The hummus.
It is one of my favorite purchases from Trader Joe’s. I love dipping in my chip and getting part hummus, part of the middle (aka the good stuff) that adds all the flavor. The problem is my husband eats hummus like an animal, with no regard to the flavor that is supposed to take place in one’s mouth while enjoying the perfect percentage of 3/4 hummus, 1/4 middle mixture. When I purchase the hummus, the first thing he does is mix it all together. It becomes one, leaving no room for me to achieve the perfect dip. When I learned he did this, I bought our own individual hummus containers. When I come home from Trader Joe’s, I pull out a Sharpie and label one “his” and one “hers.”
He didn’t even like hummus when we got married. He didn’t even eat vegetables, and he was on an all-processed food diet. Marriage changes people. The hummus is proof. Recently, I started helping in the student ministry at our church. Last week, I sat in with the high school girls for discussion time. The talk was all about marriage. Why God created marriage, what marriage should be, and what marriage should reflect.
I’ve been married almost fourteen years and heard all this stuff before. A man should leave his mother and father . . . and hold fast to his wife . . . Yet, as I sat there, I was grateful for the reminder. Marriage can be mundane. The definition of mundane is lacking interest or excitement. The definition of excitement is a feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness. Even a never-ending feeling of great enthusiasm and eagerness would eventually get old. Excitement only exists because of the dull times. Like when you go to the fridge for a snack and realize your hummus has been destroyed.
Maybe hummus is supposed to be mixed. Maybe the middle mixture mixed with the hummus is “the good stuff.” Just like what God meant for man and woman . . . to become one. Often, I try to bring my “Well, I’ll just buy two containers so I can still have it my way!” mentality to marriage. That doesn’t work. Eventually, one of us will run out. It’s those moments we need the other to share. I think I’ll stop buying two containers. Even if the hummus isn’t perfect, it still has the good stuff.
