Brian is not an overly excitable guy, but he called me from work today with a glee in his voice, probably two notches higher than when he announced this would be a three-day work week. “I found a dealer! Right down town! I’m headed there now!” Don’t turn him in just yet. He’s just trippin’ on — get this — Vegemite.
“Vege-what?” That’s what all the Kroger people blankly replied when I attempted to get poor hubby his fix. [C’mon, folks, do I have to start singing here? Men At Work? Land Down Under? “He just smiled and gave me a vegemite sandwich…”? O.K., nevermind. “Do you have a request form?”]
It’s pretty good. When I spread it on toast, it’s reminiscent of a french dip sandwich. But, my lands, this man eats it like I’d eat peanut butter. Or chocolate. Or peanut butter wrapped in chocolate. He seems almost hurt that I’m “barely touching the stuff.” There’s been nary a meal prepared lately during which he hasn’t been struck giddy with the idea that “this might taste good with some Vegemite!” After 8 years of marriage, he has me convinced that my cooking warms his heart and belly, so I know I can shake off notions that he’s discovered a miracle cure for the mundane meal. My Knight just loves his Ve-ge-mite.
Back in September, we were fortunate to take a “trip of a lifetime” to Australia and New Zealand. It was cold, somewhat wet, and I was fairly pregnant, so we kept our adventures pretty tame. It was amazing nonetheless. As you can guess, among our souvenirs was Brian’s Vegemite addiction.
Back to the phone call. He told me about his phone conversation with the shop keeper:
B: Do you have Vegemite?
B: In the 400g size?!
SK: No, just the 150g.
B: [slightly dejected, but still panting] Which is about seven bucks, right?
SK: [possibly starting to feel a bit leery]…Um, y-yess…$6.99….Would you like me to…set some aside for you? [possibly also wondering if he’d prefer her to don a dark hoodie and sunglasses and stand on a street corner]
B: No, thanks. I’ll be there in a minute.
[swooning] I just adore this man.