I’ve Poisoned My Husband

I want to shout an apology to my husband from the rooftops. I can’t say “I’m sorry” enough. I feel horrible.
 
This morning I insisted that he eat my microwave-version baked strawberry yogurt oatmeal, even though the only kind of oatmeal he normally eats is either in the form of an oatmeal raisin cookie or the newly-tried THM E pancakes. (Yes, the whole family loves those!)
 
My thought was, if I used steel-cut oats, he wouldn’t have that texture that he doesn’t care for. Shoot, they would almost be the texture of the THM pancakes when I pulverize the oats to powder in the blender, right?
 
I had his bowl and my bowl right beside each other on the counter. Every ingredient was exactly the same, except for his I used 1/2 cup of steel-cut oats and for mine I used 1/2 old-fashioned rolled oats.
 
I delivered it, piping hot, on a potholder while I nuked mine. Basically, he sat there and played with it. He took a tiny bite here and there, saying that he didn’t really care for it.
 
“Oh, stop your whining,” I said. “It’s good. You only think you don’t like it. If you would actually try it, you would see how delicious it really is. You tell me over and over that it’s up to me to help you with your blood sugar and then you turn your nose up at the healthful foods I make for you.”
 
As I ate my oatmeal, my mouth literally watered and I relished every sweet bite of that delicious, steamy gift from heaven above.
 
After fifteen minutes or so, it became apparent that he was not going to eat his oatmeal.
 
“Oh, good grief,” I said. “Bring it here, ya big baby. You cannot throw away that perfectly good oatmeal.” Famous last words.
 
After I finished mine, I stuck my spoon into his. Something was off. Way off. Why was it so thick? It’s almost like it absorbed every ounce of fluid I put in there and it still wasn’t enough. I took a taste. Blech! It was awful! Not just bad. Awful! Still, I took three or four more bites, trying to dig out the strawberries, but even they didn’t help the flavor.
 
I made them exactly the same, except for the type of oats I used!
 
“Oh, Chuck, I am sooo sorry! This is horrible. But trust me when I say that mine was delicious. I’ll fix you one like mine tomorrow.”
 
“No, thank you,” he said. “Can I just have some ham and eggs?”
 
What happened? Do steel-cut oats absorb more? But, you know what, it didn’t taste good, either. I keep the steel-cut oats in a mason jar on a shelf by my kitchen sink. Do they go bad?
 
I feel horrible. I feel like I have ruined any chance I may have had in getting my husband to eat oatmeal.
 
On the upside, he is now drinking ACV and taking Triple Zero yogurt and a packet of Truvia to work to eat on his break.
 
I know for a fact that I used to eat steel-cut oats when I first started THM and I don’t remember anything like what I experienced this morning. I don’t have a clue what went wrong.
 
But Chuck, honey, sweetie, I am sooo sorry. You are not a whiny baby.