So.

A few months ago my husband revealed to me that he doesn’t like taco seasoning, and why. Apparently some years ago, after spending a day with a friend of a friend who apparently doesn’t shower often enough, I remarked that this person smelled like taco seasoning. And he did. He was very fragrant and, umm, cumin-y.

Okay, fine. I don’t need taco seasoning. I can mix up my own little spice blend, without so much salt, etc., etc., blah, blah, blah. Heaven knows we don’t want to subject anyone to unwashed-hippie tacos.

But today, he broke the news that, in fact, he doesn’t really like tacos at all.

What. The. Hell? Who doesn’t like tacos? How in the world can a person look at a taco and say, hey, I don’t find that at all appealing?

It’s crunchy, it has meat, there’s cheese, there’s refreshing sour cream. There’s hot sauce. What in the world is wrong with him? The boy and I love tacos. I could easily eat them once every couple of weeks. Plus, as anyone who is the sole cook in her house knows, tacos are an easy trick to have in your bag of dinners.

So we now can add tacos to the lengthy list of things he finds unpalatable. These include onions, peppers of any kind, tomatoes, cucumbers, too much corn in any recipe containing corn, lima beans, tomato soup, green beans that aren’t canned, enchiladas (including a casserole recipe that I have tweaked until it is adored by everyone who tries it…except him), romaine lettuce, asparagus (unless covered in hollandaise sauce), and a slew of other things I probably don’t know about. And now, tacos.

Asshat.

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