The Meat War

Donna and I are waging a slow war. At first I thought it wasn't a cold war, because I was fighting on the wrong front. I control the stove and the oven, Donna seems leary of them at best. So as chief cooker of our household, I was sadly self-deluded. I, or so I thought, would decide what we eat and what we do not eat. Tough talk, eh?
But talk is cheap and it doesn't buy the groceries, and it would seem that neither do I. Or at least that division of labour is more egalitarian when it comes to Safeway. So you can see - it is a cold war and the true front is the refrigerator. Sure I don't have to cook what is in there. There are always plenty of options. But Donna is ahead of us both. You see she knows well and true that I can't throw out perfectly good food. I'm far too frugal for that. She also knows that I'm too lazy to cook two versions of the same meal, so yes it is deliberate.
It has been a long slow battle and I must admit that I'm losing terribly. I was virtually a vegetarian when she met me and today I used actually pepperoni while making pizzas. (not the usual fake kind that I buy, but never use more than half of) I'll tell you - I didn't like it. Not one bit. ...Losing that is. The pepperoni was pretty tasty. See. Damn it. I am losing.