We hadn’t
been together long. My wife cooked dinner, and the potatoes were a little
burned. I told her they were fine. She had anosmia so she has very little sense
of taste. But she detected something. “They are burned aren’t they”? She had me
fixed with one of her looks. “Yeah, they are a bit” I admitted. She looked at
me, a bit mad “Then why did you keep eating them”? “Well, you put that effort into
cooking them and I didn’t want you to feel bad” I tried to explain. “I never
want you to put up with it again, because that’s dishonest. I want us to always
be honest in this relationship, always.”
And that is
why I always told her if the food wasn’t right. Because she wanted honesty above
all else, in everything.
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