Category Archives: Food

Super Freekeh

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Today I was in the grocery store, and I noticed something in the grain/ cracker/ cookie/ ethnic food/ chocolate bar/ ice cream topping aisle. Does that seem like a strange combination of goods for one aisle in the grocery store? It does to me too. In any case, my friend and I were looking for quinoa, which is apparently an incredibly elusive ingredient for my old-people Co-Op, and I came across something called Freekeh. It’s super-freek-EH! I have had a loop of that song, plus Le Freak (or, Le FREEK) going through my head for the past couple of hours. I feel immense regret that I didn’t buy it, because although I do not know exactly how one prepares Freekeh, I feel I could have figured it out. What’s for dinner, Mom? Oh, we’re going to get a little FREEK-EH. The jokes could go on forever. Hilarity at the dinner table. Or, hilarity on my part. It’s probable that my children would be less than enthusiastic about my adventuresome culinary ideas.

It turns out that Freekeh is actually just a kind of toasted wheat, which is fairly anti-climatic.

Other semi-freekeh things:

1) Tonight is the first School Council/ Parent Association meeting of the year, and I have just taken my traditional offering of brownies out of the oven. CARAMEL brownies. I have never made such a thing before and possibly won’t ever again, but I have over a litre of caramel sauce in my fridge due to a small kitchen disaster yesterday, and I’m trying to find ways to use it up. This is a teaser for the full post which will be coming up next week over at the Yummy Mummy Club. Let’s just say that I now have more caramel than anyone really needs in their life, and that I keep finding small splotches of stickiness on the countertop, taps, cupboard handles, etc. I don’t even LIKE caramel.On another note, I have a cookbook giveaway going on – if you like baking, this is the book for you!

2) A few weeks ago, I put our decorative scarecrow family into the front garden, which is my traditional way of festively greeting autumn. Every single morning I pull open the living room drapes to let the sun shine in, and every single morning I gasp and have a little heart palpitation because someone is at the window.

If history is any indication, I will probably become used to my little ragged friend in the window once it’s time to take him down and put up the Christmas lights.

3) This is Rosie. She’s “my” scarecrow. The others are named Dummy Jimmy Too Tall, Idiot, and TV. I only named Rosie.

4) I bought a red sweater. I know. I bought it in a moment of passion and now it’s sitting in my drawer like a judgement.

5) After some discussion with my husband, I realized that I am not the romantic one in our relationship. This seems strange to me. And here I thought that not plucking one’s chin or upper lip in the presence of one’s husband was the ultimate in romanticism, but apparently that’s not enough. Well, he knew who I was when he married me, and that is someone who would much rather roll over and fall asleep immediately than engage in pillow talk for hours. Wham, bam, thank you sir.

6) Related: I think “boner” is the funniest word in the English language. If it was socially acceptable I would work it into every single conversation. Alas.

7) A yoga friend said to me the other morning that he wasn’t sure what I was doing on Sunday nights now that Breaking Bad is over. Nothing, Glenn. I am doing nothing. Mad Men doesn’t start up for months; I basically hate television now. Anyone want to recommend a show for me to become obsessed with? I hear House of Cards is good.

Sing a song

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I don’t know if it’s because of the full moon tomorrow or what, but I’ve been having one of those super productive days in which I actually amaze myself. I had a pan of vegan peppermint brownies (minties, maybe) in the oven before 8:00 am, and a separate pan of vegan non-peppermint brownies baked a few hours later. Why all the brownies, you may ask? It’s parent-teacher interviews tomorrow night, and I am bringing (apparently a lot of) brownies and pasta salad to the teacher potluck. I may have to sample them, though, just to ensure quality control. The house smells amazing; brownies are a nice project on a rainy and cold fall day.

I also went to the grocery store, and much to my delight I made it in and out prior to the arrival of the seniors’ bus. If you do not think that is something of note, then you have never had the back of your legs nudged vigorously by an old lady behind you in the lineup who is sure that she is going to miss the bus back to the lodge, despite the fact that said bus doesn’t leave for another forty-five minutes. You have never had to navigate around carts left randomly in an aisle, three wide, while a gaggle of elderly women talk about the virtues of store brand bran flakes versus All-Bran. You have never had to turn your cart around in the produce section because the lineup at the pharmacy is blocking the aisle where they keep the mixed greens. And none of these things happened to me today because I made it there before the bus even pulled up. It’s a small victory, but a victory nonetheless.

While in the baking aisle, I noticed this:

Now, I know that sometimes we all need something quick and easy, but this seems really kind of icky to me. Cans of plain frosting, add your own flavour with the little artificial flavouring packets. People, it’s VERY EASY to flavour your own frosting; you do not need to do this. I IMPLORE YOU. Frosting is one of the easiest things to make in the history of the kitchen arts. The hardest thing about making frosting is ensuring that you remove the beaters from the mixer before licking them, lest you accidentally turn the mixer on and have something terrible happen to your tongue. I just wrote about how to make different kinds of frostings over at Yummy Mummy Club – check it out if you want a quick and easy cupcake recipe.

Jake with his birthday cupcake.


Last night my husband was watching Shark Tank (I KNOW) and there were two ladies on there who had started their own company, called Wicked Good Cupcakes, shipping cupcakes nationwide in little mason jars. It seemed to be the most adorable thing ever, and I briefly considered trying this – cupcakes in mason jars, not shipping nationwide – but then I became puzzled on how one would actually get the cupcakes in the jars without them getting squished or crumbling to pieces. It is one of those Pinterest-y ideas that seems So! Awesome! but ends up with someone crying and/or having a major self-esteem crisis.

Speaking of wicked good things, did you read that Mark Wahlberg has just recently graduated high school, after originally dropping out in ninth grade? Hooray, Marky Mark (and hubba hubba). It’s nice to see celebrities doing good things, instead of making moronic political/ societal/ vaccination-based comments that make me despair for the state of the world. Mark Wahlberg instead wrote that he wanted to be a good example for his kids. What a guy!

 


I KNOW.

Completely unrelated, I have had Elton John’s Levon stuck in my head all day. At this point I am pretty much begging any other song to take over, since I’ve caught myself singing out loud several times. He was born a pauper to a pawn on a Christmas Day when the New York Times said God is dead and the war’s begun….HE SHALL BE LEEEEEEEEEVON. I desperately need something, anything else to take up this space in my head. I will take any earworm suggestions at all. ANYTHING. He shall be Levon, he shall be a good man…MAKE IT STOP PLEASE.

13 Month Old Baby Broke The Looking Glass

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Anyone superstitious out there? I am not, generally speaking, except for believing strongly in karma and the zodiac. Say what you will, all Leos I’ve ever met have been show-offs, and all Tauruses I’ve ever met (myself included) are stubborn as the day is long. But Friday the 13th? Meh. My friend Hannah will probably disagree with me, but I have no adverse feelings about it. If someone chases after me with a hockey mask and a chainsaw, I might change my tune but for now, it’s just the day Jake brought in three dozen cookies to school to celebrate his birthday, which is on Sunday.

Three dozen cookies. For his class. Because he has thirty-one kids in his class. I’ll leave it at that. I will not go into details about how I drilled my homeschooling friend Nan about the materials she uses and then promptly ordered them, not because I’m planning on homeschooling but because I’m planning on Tiger Mom-ing* the hell out of the kids since there’s no way they will be able to get what I want them to get out of school in a class of thirty-one. Mark has over thirty kids in his class too. But here I can feel myself working my way up into a frenzy again, and so I will let it go. OM SHANTI.

*I’m not really going to become a Tiger Mom, but I am going to have to supplement what they are doing in class, because as one friend said their math work seems like a cross between Sherlock Holmes and Yo Gabba Gabba. 5 x 6 = ___. Explain your work.

I need to get off this topic, quickly, lest I explode. Cookies. Here are the cookies Jake took to school – stars for the birthday star!

You know me, guys, I’m all natural ingredients and made from scratch and spinach smoothies and kale chips but when it comes to birthdays, I don’t fuck around. SUGAR COOKIES ALL THE WAY. They are made from scratch but they also have food colouring in them OMG. How else does one make “turquoise” frosting, I ask you?

I was doing some shopping earlier in the week. Mark’s idea for Jake’s birthday gift was to buy five of his favourite chocolate bars, wrap them up, and then hide them around the house. Clues will be given for this delicious treasure hunt. It’s very sweet, literally, and also I need to remember to put the dog outside for this activity.

I also looked in my favourite sleepwear/ lingerie store for new pajamas. The Blissdom Canada conference is coming up in less than three weeks, and on the last night they are having a wrap-up pajama party. PAJAMA PARTY SQUEE. I haven’t been to one of those in many years, but since my sleepwear verges on the ridiculous – pink and white pajamas with a hummingbird motif, recently – I thought maybe I should look for some new ones. This is what I look like on a typical Friday night, and yes, my husband is super lucky:

So I wandered into La Vie En Rose and walked out without pajamas – they were all either a) super sexy and therefore not really appropriate for a conference with women, at which I am going to try to maintain a somewhat professional aura while drinking copious amounts of wine, or b) kind of like the hummingbird pajamas, but with puppies, kitties, or ice cream cones on them. I did not go in there to buy hippo sock-slippers, but hippo sock-slippers I did buy.

It would take a stronger woman than me to look at those hippos and walk away, especially considering the emotional attachment to hippos around here. Poor Jake, yesterday he realized that next Tuesday would have been Foggy’s 48th birthday. There was much weeping and sadness, which was an inauspicious start to the day. I felt very, very sad for him as he cried softly into his Shreddies.

After I bought the hippo socks, I looked for a new lipgloss, and I found a shade called Wine Stain. I did not buy it. I feel that, while that may be a natural weekend look for me, I would rather have a lip colour that does not look like I’ve been a lush. I went for the cutely named Maple Sugar instead.

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The winner of my giveaway is Lynn! Hope this gift makes you feel better about the whole ant/ hornet thing you went through this summer (the bug-phobic of you will not want to click that link. It will make you want to burn your own house down.) Lynn, I’ll send you your prize soon – if I survive the next week (details to follow if I survive it….) Thanks everyone for playing along! xoxo

The Opposite Of Extreme Makeovers, and a Giveaway!

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Lawsy, I’ve been busy – relatively speaking – since returning from vacation. It’s amazing how much piles up after an eight-day hiatus from the homefront. I’ve been multi-tasking like a motherfucking riot; taking the boys to the playground while mentally composing posts, responding to constant “fun facts” about animals while making 16 litres of tomato sauce, preparing frantically for my solo trip to Saskatchewan while photographing plates of tomato-based dishes. Did I mention I have a whole lot of tomatoes in my possession? My mother-in-law supplied me with “a few” tomatoes; “a few” meaning “fifteen pounds”. It’s a good problem to have, all these sweet and delicious tomatoes.

Although it’s been warm here the past few days, there is a slight change in the air and I realized there are only three more weeks of summer vacation left! Cherish every moment goddammit. In addition to cherishing moments and tomato preparation, I am also beginning my usual August routine of thinking about back-to-school items and festive things like snowsuits and boots. The children are sweltering as I force them to put on their boots and mittens to ascertain fit and what is needed for the imminent winter. In Calgary, you never know. WINTER IS IMMINENT PEOPLE. Cue music of doom; perhaps an instrumental version of Patio Lanterns or maybe The Devil Came Down To Georgia.

The music of doom was also playing in my mind as I found myself in the mall at 5:00 on Saturday night. Unfortunately earlier in the day I was getting my old grey mare roots coloured, necessitating the late-afternoon mall shop, which is – as we all know – is the most spirit-crushing time to attend to all your shopping needs. Why is that? Why are there so many crowds, screaming children, rude people, and despondent employees at that time? And why do I never learn? There were two lights at the end of this tunnel of consumerism: Sport Chek had sales on running shoes, which I liked since we had to buy the boys each two pairs, and we had dinner at the food court, which is the kids’ favourite, as I have undoubtedly mentioned before. A teenage girl and her boyfriend sat at the table next to us, along with this cute fellow:

Speaking of the old grey mare and giant orange bears, I decided that I was going to make a dramatic change in my hair colour, and so I took this photo to my hair therapist, who looked at me quizzically. “Okay,” she said, “But it’s kind of the colour you already have. It’s pretty similar.”  No no! I said cheerfully, explaining that I wanted something more coppery. She made a change to my formulation, coloured my hair, and…it’s marginally different. Dramatic overhaul fail.  It looks pretty much exactly like this photo, taken poolside last week, pre-colour. Note: my dad makes this exact same face when he’s thinking, leading me to believe once again that I am an actual younger, female, and artificially red-haired version of him. Thanks for the grey hair genes, Dad!

It’s giveaway time! Prize yet to be determined but sure to be awesome. Or at least kind of fun. Leave a comment and let me know what you’re up to this August. Or what colour your hair is. Or at what point in the year do you start thinking about snowboots? Ah, who am I kidding – leave a comment about anything and I’ll enter you in the draw. Name to be drawn August 22!

Nicole’s Favourite Things: Summer Loving Had Me A Blast Edition

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My roses are blooming, and that is not a euphemism of any kind.

Well, maybe it’s a bit of a euphemism. I came across this hilarious piece about ludicrous things said by yoga teachers, and thank goodness none of them have ever been said to me, because “Let your anus blossom” is something no one should hear, ever.

Do I look like a flower? A blossoming one?

When I was a kid, I loved the book Eight Cousins by Louisa May Alcott, and the follow up book, Rose in Bloom. I still love it – it’s a charming picture of a privileged 19th century New England family – except there is one teensy onion in the ointment, a wedding between two first cousins. Ew. Still, I like to gloss over that part in my head. Lalalala. I can’t hear you!

This is probably a strange segue into Nicole’s Favourite Things – Summer Edition. Incest! Blossoming anuses! Let’s move on!

Nicole’s Favourite Things: Summer Edition

For those of you new to the Boy House, I like to periodically talk about some of my favourite things, things that are making me feel happy these days. This is not sponsored and I have not received anything free for writing these posts – I’m just sharing the love for things I think are fabulous.

My Garden

We had a tree taken out this year, and in its place my husband planted grass seeds. I’ve been carefully watering the little patch, which I refer to as “his grass”. It’s “his grass” and “my flowers” and every year I dig out a little more of “his grass” to make room for “my flowers”.

The rose bush that I planted a few years ago is now covered in blooms, and is very popular with my neighbour’s bees:

Bzzzzz….look at those bees go! My neighbour’s bees are also responsible for the most delicious honey I have ever tasted.

I know I should pull it out, but I find it charming how this one sprig of yarrow has found its way into the blue sage.

Colour Me Beautiful

This may shock and stun some of you, but I’m trying to add colour to my wardrobe. Colour! To my wardrobe! And not just to keep the mosquitoes away – most of the radioactive mosquitoes in Calgary seem to have died off, happily – but because I find I get a startling number of compliments when I wear colours. I guess I’m a whore for compliments, but I have to think maybe they are on to something. Don’t get me wrong; black is still my go-to, but I’m trying here, people. I’m trying.

Yes, this is a recent picture. Sweater, jeans, scarf. Summer in Calgary!

Beauty Products

I’ve recently discovered Organix hair products, and I’m in love. My hair – my overprocessed, heat styled, sad sack hair – really loves the Coconut Milk and Biotin and Collagen lines. I highly recommend them if you have a close relationship with hair colour and dryers, and also if you like sitting out in the sun with no hat on.

 
I’ve also recently discovered L’oreal Colour Riche lipstick in Sienna, and may I suggest it for anyone looking for a nice daytime neutral?
 
 
 
 Here’s me having a good hair day due to Organix, and also wearing L’Oreal Colour Riche in Sienna! Wait. It’s kind of depressing to have all these sweater shots. Here’s one from today – I’m wearing a tank top because the temperature is over 20 degrees, yayyyyy!
 
 
 Also using Organix and wearing my new BFF lipstick.
 
 
I tried to duckface just like all the young girls are doing these days, and it’s immediately apparent that a) I’m not a young girl, b) duckface is unflattering and makes me look like a 50 year old smoker, and c) I also strangely look like I have a moustache. Which I don’t. Immediately after taking this photo I ran to the bathroom armed with tweezers just to be sure.
 
This is supposed to be about my favourite things! Not about my very unattractive duckface. Moving along.
 
Summer Food
 
It’s berry season! Well, I guess it’s berry season all the time somewhere in the world, but currently it’s semi-local berry season. Hooray! I’ve been eating giant bowlfuls of strawberries, raspberries, blueberries, and blackberries every day for weeks. I also like to use them as dessert garnishes, on top of waffles, pancakes, and this amazing coconut French toast, and with lemon mini-cakes and coconut whipped cream. I’m also loving the summery excuse of “heat” to just have salad for dinner, which is my favourite. Check out my recipes for pasta salad, quinoa salad, and Greek salad here.
 
Because I’m not ALL about shameless self-promotion, let me tell you about Dinner With Julie’s Cinnamon Bun Pancakes. I made these the other day even though they are not vegan and are really more of a delicious dessert, and they were absolutely amazing. I had to cut down on the sugar due to my husband (he’s sweet enough! Awww.) and still they were incredible. Try them, you’ll love them. If you love cinnamon buns, that is. If not, this probably isn’t the recipe for you.
 
So tell me, lovelies, what are your favourite things about summer? xoxo
 


I said selzer, not salsa!

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We took the boys to see Man of Steel yesterday, which means that my husband and I have gone to a grand total of four movies in a theatre since 2005. Three of those are from 2011 and on, so I really feel like we’re bringing up the average here. Annual movies! Man of Steel was pretty good – kind of explosion-y and action-y for me, but after all it is a superhero movie. The boys loved it, even if they were a bit freaked out by the very freaky Coming Attractions. Hey, I realize that we were there for Man of Steel, not some romantic comedy or historical drama, but seriously what is up with the super-violent futuristic trailers?

We were comfy in our seats near the middle of a row, when four women came in and sat down directly beside me. There were ten completely empty rows in front of us, many, many empty rows behind us, and even more seats to the left of my husband. But no, these women sat directly beside me, the one nearest taking up our shared armrest immediately. Is that strange? Maybe my scented lotion was attracting them like moths to a flame? Maybe they wanted to be near my children and their whispered questions and hilariously obvious statements – Is that guy Zod? I think that guy IS Zod. Who’s that guy? I think that baby is actually Superman! – although I cannot imagine why, frankly. I ended up feeling like a princessy asshole as I made my family move down a couple of seats so I didn’t have to share an armrest.

Today is pouring rain and 12 degrees, the sky is dark grey, the house is gloomy, and I’ve been baking muffins and roasting tomatoes in the hopes that constantly running the oven will negate the need to turn the furnace on, today being July 8. What better thing to do on a rainy day than take the children to Costco?

I know what you’re thinking, but actually it was not bad. I haven’t taken the children grocery shopping with me in so long, I wasn’t sure what to expect. It turns out that they were very helpful, if a little too encouraging with regards to buying perfectly reasonable items. “Do we need two of those? Because then we can each put one in the cart!” More often than not my answer was, well…okay. I mean, who wants Costco related sibling rivalry when I know for a fact that we WILL use all that salsa? In any case, I now have enough items in my pantry to guarantee me a spot on that deplorable show about hoarding, or at least to get me through the summer without having to take another trip to Costco.

One small onion in the ointment was our checkout lady. This poor beleaguered woman had the exasperated air of someone who has been doomed to deal with complete morons, now and forever, amen. She sighed audibly several times, muttered under her breath at how she had to tell the lady packing the carts “the same thing a million times, goddammit”, and I thought she was actually going to have a nervous breakdown when a customer pushed his cart too hard which had a domino effect for all the other empty carts lined up, ultimately resulting in her thigh being nudged by one. Poor girl. I’m sure she does have to deal with idiocy on a daily basis, but all the same next time I’m choosing the line with the hyper friendly guy who looks like Ryan Stiles. But not until September, hopefully. We should at least be able to cruise into the new year with our salsa reserves, as I realized on unpacking that we really didn’t need to buy any.

But he knew that when he married me!

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I am planning a solo trip to visit my grandma, several weeks from now, and I think the planning logistics may just be the death of me. It occurred to me yesterday, not for the first time, that there is a fundamental difference between me and my husband. He travels frequently for business, and here is how it goes: he emails me his travel itinerary, he packs his bag, he leaves. Here is what happens when I go away on a solo trip:

1) Check everyone’s calendar for the least-inconvenient time for me to leave.
2) Book flight. Ask husband to book the rental car.
3) Arrange for the kids to be at my parents’ place for a couple of days.
4) Explore options for the dog. Book dog into kennel. Arrange for grooming at the same time. Discover they don’t have dog pickup on the weekend. Figure out if husband will be able to pick up dog before closing time on Friday.
5) Have minor mental breakdown over the dog issue; husband works very long hours; picking up dog before 7pm will be a problem.
6) Discover an immovable appointment just before kids are due to go to their grandparents’. Cry.
7) Make gigantic list of my own packing needs, in addition to what the kids will need for a couple of nights away.
8) Remember that my mother does have ample washing facilities in case they run out of clothes. Panic anyway. Make notes about cortisone cream that was forgotten last weekend and was the cause for my husband to go out in the middle of a gigantic prairie thunderstorm, and also about vitamins, allergy medication, children’s Tylenol, and what about Mark’s inhaler? It EXPIRED? Cry.
9) Make list of items to pack for the dog.
10) Cry.

It’s exhausting to be me.

It’s not like it’s easy to be my husband – I do feel sorry for him during the summer break, heading off to work while the boys and I go to the pool or the amusement park or just hang out all day, eating bonbons, etc. However, clearly he is the winner when it comes to travel. Some of this is naturally occurring – in my anecdotal experience, with my own small, statistically insignificant sample size, women tend to take charge of the packing/ children-and-pet logistics when travelling. Some of this, though, is me and my control-freak, manage-the-details, burst-into-tears-when-encountering-a-difficulty ways.

This is not the first time I’ve realized the Mars versus Venus nature of our marriage. It’s a good thing: I’d hate to have two people like me in the house. Can you imagine? Me: “Wahhhh, what will we doooooo?” Hypothetical Drama-Queen Husband: “OMGOMGOMG! WE’RE ALL GOING TO DIEEEEEE!” No, a household really only needs one such person. And that person is ME, every 27-60 days.

Remember last year’s list about the things I love but my husband hates? Time for a redux, but this time it’s a list about my husband’s least favourite things that are inevitable, being married to me. Let’s make it a meme! Join in and tell me what your husband (or wife, whatevs) dislikes the most but yet must put up with in the name of marital harmony.

My Husband’s Least Favourite Things, But That Are Necessary When Living With Nicole:

1) Histrionics. I am generally a pretty even keeled person. I’m not a drama queen, generally, but sometimes (PMS) a girl has reason to get a little worked up (PMS). For example, last night when I sat straight up in bed in the middle of the night (read: 10:15 pm), ran to the kitchen, looked at the calendar, discovered the appointment for me and the boys to get our Nexus cards, an appointment we’ve been waiting for since last year, and began to sob raggedly. My husband calmly pointed out that the appointment was the day before my flight and I had many, many hours to get the boys to my parents’ place, and yet I was a complete wreck (PMS).

2) Questions About My Appearance. I think this is a universal male thing. “Do I look fat in this outfit?” “Do you think my butt is getting bigger? I do.” “How does my hair look?” “What do you think of these shoes.” His answer is always “You look great.” Whether this is truly his love-is-blind feeling, or this is a survival mechanism he has developed, I don’t know. All I know is that he would rather be poked in the eye with a safety pin than answer those questions.

3) Cilantro. I realize this is one of those genetic things, either it tastes good or it tastes like soap, but regardless even the word cilantro makes my husband shudder. I like it, which means that there is a lot of separate, after-the-fact adding of cilantro to my meals. Which brings me to…

4) Vegan meals. Sure, he’ll happily eat quinoa salads (hold the cilantro) and rice bowls and all sorts of vegan delights…as long as there is a side of meat. See also: my gig over at Yummy Mummy where I am the Meatless Mummy Con Carne. I once asked him if it was hard being married to me, and the first thing he said was “No. You’re easy to be married to. Except you’re a pain in the ass to go out for dinner with.” Well I never. The boys are excitedly planning a dinner at a barbeque where one of my husband’s old friends is playing in a blues band, and my husband checked the menu online to see what were the vegetarian options. In a barbeque place that specializes in meat platters. The vegetarian option is a green salad. I guess I’ll eat before hand. The second thing my husband said about the negatives of being married to me is…

5) My taste in movies and, relatedly, my inability to watch an entire movie not of my choosing without falling asleep. He also seems to find it “irritating” to watch my favourite movies with me, while I recite the dialogue (see also: When Harry Met Sally. Where was Sunday, what had I done with Sunday? I told him the truth and he didn’t believe me. They don’t make Sunday. Because of God.) I am a DELIGHT to watch movies with.

6) My black clothes. He seems to think that colour in wardrobes is a good thing. But if all your clothes are black then you’re always colour coordinated! Right?

Your turn, lovely readers. What does your spouse dislike, but is just part of being married to you? Do tell! xoxo