I have never liked asparagus.  I’m not sure why, oh wait, I do, it’s nasty.  There, I said it.  It’s out of my system.  I am an asparagus hater.  As the character Newman on “Seinfeld” once said, “Vile weed!” (sure it was in reference to broccoli, but the term is still applicable).

Well (awkward literary transition), I have been trying to be really good and watch what I eat and the best way to do that is allow my wife, who has a great deal of self-control, to select some healthy foods for me, a husband with very little to no self-control.  So (second awkward literary transition in the same paragraph, way to go, Dave), I had a meeting and figured I would allow Charlene to pick out something healthy for me to eat on the way.  Heading toward the refrigerator, I saw my wife emerge (she was not actually in the refrigerator…  poor choice of wording to complement the awkward transitions) with a Tupperware container in her hand.  Then she opened the container to reveal (gasp!) a homemade asparagus salad.  Looking into my eyes, she waited for my rejection.  “Be strong, Dave.  You can do it.”  Without the utterance of a single disparaging word about the most nasty vegetable known to man, I accepted the salad, along with a fruit yogurt, which I hoped would later cleanse my palate.

Driving to my meeting, I popped open the Tupperware and eyed the salad.  Staring right back at me, my adversary, the “vile weed!”  I will not eat it Sam I am, I will not eat asparagus-am.  Well, you get the idea.  Any who (way to go, another awkward literary transition, you are watching something special here folks), I considered if I could fling the asparagus chunks one-by-one out onto the state highway, as I sped along, when something strange happened.  Something deep inside me said, “Dave, it is wrong to fling part of your wife’s homemade salad out the window.  She worked hard to make this.  Don’t be a complete jerk.”  Then against all odds and listening to my inner “good husband,” I took a bite.  And (shock!), it was not half bad.  In fact, whatever she did to that asparagus made it edible and that is saying something.  In fact, it was pretty tasty.

I took another bite.  Then another.  Before I knew it, I was driving along gobbling up the asparagus salad, which by the way does not lend to the best driving technique, but it does create a healthy lunch.  My long-time foe had become somewhat likable.  Even, dare I say, enjoyable?  Maybe it was the dietary hunger pains, maybe it was the inner voice, most likely it was my wife’s amazing cooking, whatever it was something unprecedented had occurred.  For one single moment, for one magical dish, I had enjoyed asparagus, let’s just not make a habit of it.