Spicy and Bland

Rob is spicy and I am bland. This has nothing to do with sex or personality. It does describe our food preferences. Rob loves hot and spicy. He has cabinets full of hot sauces. He collects hot sauces and uses hot sauce on everything. He talks hot sauces with people. Friends come over to our house and try his hot sauces. He cooks with them. He grows hot peppers and makes relishes with the peppers. His love of hot peppers and hot sauces is endless. I, on the other hand, am bland. I like mashed potatoes, cereal, milk, macaroni and cheese, mild wings, pudding, cheese pizza, etc.  I could eat cereal for every meal. Rob thinks this is disturbing. I think it is disturbing to eat something that has the potential to burn your mouth and lips and cause a person to drool. One of the first times Rob made pasta for us, he made it too spicy. I did not remain calm because I was hungry and really looking forward to a nice dinner. I took one bite and had to spit it out. Rob never made that mistake again.  We else make many dishes two different ways or we make it bland for me and then he spices his to suit his taste.  Rob thinks I have food issues. I think I just know what I want. For instance, I hate tea. I mean hate it with a passion, like gag me with a spoon. If any kind of tea touches my lips, I have to spit it out. I don't care where I am.  If I were in the White House, I would have to spit it out. I also hate olives and capers. Disgusting, with a capital D.  Rob loves them. I do love candy. Rob thinks my love affair with candy borders on addiction. Excuse me but I don't have cabinets full of candy and invite people over to try a million different varieties and call it fun. I actually prefer not to share my candy. Then there is pop. Everyone thinks I'm addicted to Diet Pepsi. I have to drink something because I hate tea.  Plus in every other area of our life I am anything but bland, so give me some mashed potatoes with a side of macaroni and cheese and a Diet Pepsi to drink, please.