Butter--yes, in moderation. Margarine? not a chance, that stuff is awful. Mayo? Yes, in moderation. Miracle Whip will gag maggots.
The largest and most extensive argument/discussion/consciousness-raising in my relationship with Marie occurred during its first month. I had Marie and her girls come over to my house for brunch on a Saturday when 2 of my 4 girls were staying with me. The kids were already thick as thieves by this time, which was a great joy to my heart and to Marie's.
Then I got out the Crisco shortening to pan-fry the eggs with.
Marie--"Ahi, HALTO! FULL STOP!"
Me--"Uh, what?"
Marie--"Do you have butter or olive oil?"
Sara, Marie's older daughter--"Here it comes, this is the good part!" All 4 girls were suppressing giggles--poorly.
Me--"Yeah, there's butter in the fridge."
Marie--"Oh, good! Here, let me help."
What followed was most instructive. Shortening was UNHEARD OF in Marie's world. There is butter, and there is olive oil. The End. She liked my year-old T-Fal cookware, and the way I slow-fried and scrambled the eggs in butter passed muster as well. The kids chowed down on waffles, eggs,, sausage, and bacon, then we joined them mid-chow-down with banter and savage humor that has become de rigeur anytime we get together with the kids. Breakfast at least once during a visit MUST include waffles, and I must make them.
I was pretty smitten with Marie by that time, and in about 8 months we were married. My largest life's regret was not having found Marie 20 years sooner than I did.