We’re at that time and space of dating where we’re showing off homemade culinary acumen. I like this part of dating.
You chose to go first, and you served a tofu dish when you prepared dinner at your place. A meal made from soy beans. I ate the tofu meal you prepared. To be polite.
As a guest to my home, I prepared a beef dish for us. A meal made from cow. You got furious with me. This was not polite of you.
Is there something morally special about tofu and soy beans that grant special moral outrage privileges for you just everywhere? What a magical bean. I’ll call you “Jack” because you strongly believe I should have traded my cow for your magical beans.
As I instructed my young son when finicky at meal time … feel free to starve.
Epilogue: My son rarely was finicky at meal time. Scotto is cool with nearly everything.