As E was basking himself in the warm South American sun while I was at work being cooked by rays from my computer screen, I asked E his feelings on another forbidden vegetable: spinach.

“NEVER ON ANYTHING. EVER. It’s gross, and so was Popeye,” he spat on text message.
“Wasn’t he a hero?” I asked.
“He had nonexistent biceps and huge forearms … Weird.”

Despite his disgust, I like spinach. In fact, my love for the leafy green came from Popeye the Sailor Man. When I was a young’n, I watched Popeye before breakfast and after school, both the black and white and technicolor versions. But as a little girl, I never wanted to be Olive Oyl. She was a wishy-washy type woman so easily swayed by that brute Bluto’s barbaric behavior (plus she was too damn skinny). I wanted to be Popeye–strong, and able to run, jump, knock out bullies and save the day. In order to be big and strong like Popeye, my mom told me I had to eat my spinach. And I believed her, like most young wannabe heroes would.

While E is away, I’m rediscovering my love of spinach. I whipped up a spinach, egg white and mushroom wrap for breakfast this morning to give my body a jolt of Vitamin A, C, protein and iron. This sandwich is E’s nightmare–besides the loathsome spinach, he hates the texture of mushrooms. And I cooked my egg whites hard, not runny like porridge as E likes them. Oh the FREEDOM I have being in the house alone!

“All that spinach better be gone by the time I get home,” my Popeye hating boyfriend ordered. He can such a Bluto sometimes.

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