"You Do It!": I'm Such An Ass...

So my partner made some curry for last night's dinner. With all of my stomach problems she suggested that she pick up some rice on the way home as we have none in the house. She's on a restricted diet at the moment for health reasons--long story... She also mentioned potatoes. I thought it might be a good idea to cut the spice with some starch, just in case. So I said to her:

"Whatever's easier for you to make."

Pause.

I hear back in disbelief, "What?!"

No, I do not treat my partner as my personal slave. Welcome to the fact that I sometimes lose my verbal filter.

I apologized and started laughing. Luckily, she was laughing too. It's a good thing we have such a healthy relationship and she understands me.

You see, my parterner is a chef by trade. She does most (well...all...) of the cooking. It's not that I can't cook. It's just that:

1. She's better at it.
2. When we first moved in together I was grossly intimidated and still feel a little inadequate.
3. I'm funny with food.

You know how some people live to eat? Well, I eat to live. I've always been that way. I just don't really care about eating. I can go for long periods of time without food (which is unhealthy, I know--I probably have the most screwed up metabolism in the world.) And thanks to going on the "Topamax diet," well, I care even less. And with the gastro problems I barely want to eat at all. But my partner keeps me fed. Left to my own devices, I'd be a lot thinner than I am now. When I met her, she managed to put some necessary weight on me.

My partner also "manages" me in other ways. I need a lot of help with reminders about doing things around the house. This inevitably leads to her getting frustrated and me feeling like shit and vowing to "try harder." I hate it.

And dates, scheduling...she's in charge of all social arrangements, anything like that. I can barely handle my own medical appointments and bill payments.

It takes a lot of communication and we're pretty good at that. Even though I still tend to forget a fair bit what she tells me (sometimes within the span of a few minutes! Oh help me my new psychiatrist when I see you...)

Sometimes it makes me wonder just how functional I am. But that's another post.

For now, I'll just keep on making the odd comment here and there and keep paying for it with merciless teasing. Hey, it could be worse?