Salad in a whole new way

I officially resign from salad making in the Weaver household. I'll be honest, salads aren't my thing when i'm pregnant. I don't know why, i simply don't care for them. Until Marlin made me a salad and now i've discovered love in a whole new way. There's no rules in his salad world, just lots of interesting combinations. He'll start with a bed of mixed greens and from there he'll add shredded carrots and radishes, onion, avocado, honeydew melon, kiwi, a splash of fresh squeezed orange juice, sea salt, celery, pretty much anything that strikes his fancy. His dressing is anything from simple balsamic vinegar, olive oil and dijon mustard to pureed avocadoes, olive oil and i don't know what else. Those funky combinations are OUT OF THIS WORLD. I sit at the table, drooling while he makes these works of art. Each one a little different, with hidden surprises. I would've never, in a million years, thought of putting honeydew melon in a salad, along with finely shredded onion and garlic but while eating the salad, you bite into this burst of sweetness that make your mouth sing. I gave my hot foods to the kids and tried not to look greedily at the salad bowl. My cooked food tasted dead. I'm dead serious. (i love lame puns) I told him i will never make salad again. I simply don't have it in me to try what he makes. It's a gift, an art. If i tried it, it would be seriously damaging to our digestive systems. I also told him i'm starting to feel inferior and as far as i'm concerned, he can take over the whole kitchen. He told me not to be ridiculous. I guess my ploy to free myself from cooking didn't work. The awesome thing about my man is that he is so not picky with food. He can totally enjoy a hot dog, so it's not like he's some kind of food snob. He just thoroughly enjoys creating art through food and i thoroughly enjoy stuffing my growing abdomen.

I can just see us. Old, gray haired and stooped over, but what a feast my fine old husband will cook up for the two of us. I will probably be too fat to get off my chair. Unless, of course, he makes a lot of salads.