So much of our social lives is about coupling off. In high school it was cool to have a boyfriend. (Even the animals walked two-by-two back in the days when Noah went to high school.) And if you were one of those lucky girls to have your jock beau (temporarily) gift you his varsity jacket, well then you had seriously arrived. The pinnacle of high school elite must have been the doubling of your school ring over his school ring on your left hand. Big and impressive. You counted. You were a couple. A “we.” And your finger proved it.
Later in life many people decide to get married, although a healthy number of people have arrived at the conclusion that marriage just isn’t for them as the divorce rate is so high. If I had to do it all over again I would do many things differently, especially my hair, but that’s another post altogether. I think marriage is called an institution for a reason. Like after you commit, it’s very hard to escape! Romantic restaurants are set up for two tops. (See, they count on you staying together!) Even a burger has a top and a bottom, although I’ve been known to go topless, or ummm top bunless or bunless altogether.
Even though I’m consciously coupled at present, I’m a big fan of the thruple. Three is certainly not a crowd when it comes to delicious food. For instance there is breakfast, lunch, and dinner. All pretty fabulous in my book. Or a three-course meal consisting of an appetizer, an entrée, and dessert. Again pretty fabulous. When we get into foodie trios, bagels, lox, and cream cheese comes to mind—and those three certainly play well together with no issues. A delicious BLT contains crispy bacon (yep, still a die-hard lover), complementary lettuce, and a juicy tomato. The classic mirepoix which starts any Cajun dish begins with a fine dice of mild celery, sweet carrots, and fragrant onion—each has a starring role. Hamantaschen is a three-pointed cookie. Ok, bad example since they usually taste like crumbly sawdust with a little blob of sugary fruit gel. (The Jews just can’t do holiday cake quite right. Oy!)
There are three French hens in the Twelve Days of Christmas song. Goldilocks met three bears, and we all know the three little pigs. Who can forget the ol’ three-cornered hat? Everyone loves a three-ring circus, except when that describes your life. When men dress up they usually don a three-piece suit to look dapper. When you’re beyond drunk, you are considered three sheets to the wind. And when you’re selecting someone to run out and buy the alcohol so that you can have a chance to become three sheets to the wind, you might play the game Rock, Paper, Scissors to decide. (I always go Scissors.)
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