Where's the Beef?

We had a "tragic" event in the La Vida house last night.

It wasn't so tragic for me, but I'm not sure my husband will get over it.

You see, my Mister is a loyal man. Not just in marriage, but in friendship, at work, at play.

He knows what he likes, and he sticks with it.

This is true with restaurants as well.

And his favorite place to get a burger?

Fuddruckers.

Now, let me tell you that his love for Fuddruckers runs deep. He has loved a 1/2 pound burger-medium well- with-lettuce-tomato on toasted bun for more years than he's loved me.

However, his love grew to even greater heights one Saturday afternoon thirteen years ago. We lived in San Antonio. I was five months pregnant with my first-born, The Boy.

Back then I wasn't a meat eater. As a matter of fact I hadn't eaten meat for over a decade (with exception of that one time I was at a Sunday afternoon BBQ with my church choir friends. That's the infamous day I had three sips of a margarita and FORGOT I was a vegetarian... but that's a story for another time)

Anyway, The Mister will tell you that living with a new bride that refused to put meat in spaghetti sauce or cook tacos with ground beef, was a little trying for a meat and potatoes man.

The things you put up with for love.

He was long-suffering (for 18 months at least), until that wonderful moment when I thought I had the stomach flu, but was actually pregnant. Oops.

One morning, after months of morning all-day sickness, I woke up hungry.

Very hungry.

I was certain that the only thing that would satisfy my hunger was beef. So at 6am in the morning I rolled my burgeoning belly over, looked at The Mister and said with a seriousness I'd never known, "I need beef. Today."

And we sat and watched the clock until it read 11:00a.m.... cuz he knew that the Fuddruckers down the road would be open for business.

That day he heard the angel's singing, and I've been carnivorous ever since.

As a result, we have dined in Fuddrucker's establishments across the country: Los Angeles, San Antonio, Fort Worth, Tucson, Washington D.C., and a several places in between.

When we moved to North Carolina in 2005, he was happy to find that we were within 10 miles of the only Fuddruckers in the three large cities that make up this neck of the woods.

Last night he came home from work with his mind set on a burger. So we all piled in the car and headed out.

You can imagine, given this history, how he felt when we pulled into the parking lot and found it empty.

Well, actually, there was another family parked in the lot, looking at the plywood that was covering the doors. They sat in a stupor, shaking thier heads, with tears in their eyes.

The Mister was speechless.

I thought I might have to drive.

I quickly decided on another restaurant, and through the course of the evening I realized he might be going through the stages of grief :

Denial:

Maybe they're renovating.

Guilt:

I've had meals here almost once a month for two years! I've had meetings here, and date nights with you, and shared burger's with family and friends... I guess it wasn't enough....

Anger:

This is ridiculous! That wasn't just a favorite restaurant! It was the only place I could count on a decent burger!

And then, as we sat down at the new, unfamiliar, restaurant, he went into the next phase - 


Reflection, loneliness and silence: 

I was asking him questions about his day to start conversation.

He would only give one word answers.

Soon we were sipping lemonade and he entered the final phase:

The Upward Turn and Acceptance.

This is when I made my swoop.

"Hey, since we're out, how do you feel about going to the Apple store and checking out the iPad? Mother's Day is just around the corner!

{Insert cheesy grin}

Cuz nothing say's  let-me-console-your-grieving-heart more than let's-look-at-$500-gadgets i don't really need.

I know, now you can see that he married me for my sweet and compassionate ways. I've tried so long to hide it.