Love goes out the door when money comes innuendo.
~Groucho Marx
One of the many benefits of having a pregnant wife (and oh... there are nearly innumerable benefits) is the option to eat out frequently, and at odd intervals.
"Honey, I think I feel like some take-out from Taco Time tonight."
"OK. But what about these sirloin steaks with peppercorn sauce, braised asparagus and garlic mashed potatoes that I'm just about to put the finishing touches on here? Don't you want any of this? Like, we could have Taco Time tomorrow?"
"Um, yeah, that sounds great, but I'd really, really, REALLY like a Super Soft Taco with some Mexi-Fries that have been sitting under a heat lamp for the last 20 minutes. Oh! And a Dr. Pepper!"
**sigh**
You don't argue. You just go.
Coming home from the fast food joint, the various bits of stuff masquerading as food are all wrapped in the same ubiquitous paper that isn't coated quite thickly enough with wax so as to prevent the grease from soaking through. All objects are long, cylindrical and stuffed with what is purported to be beef.
The paper bag is placed in the centre of the kitchen table, ripped open and we just have at it. Don't think; just eat. Declan loves to see how many mexi-fries he can stuff in his mouth at once. He's already lost.
Amy looks up at me after taking the first bite of hers just as I am in the process of taking the first bite of mine.
"I think this is yours. Which means I just took a big bite out of your stuffed meat burrito."
Simon munches on. Amy continues her train of thought:
"And that also means you're currently enjoying my taco deluxe."
Amy and Simon swap food items. Each slightly lost in thought.
Simon offers, "Perhaps we can continue this conversation later on."
"Maybe."
Post Script:
This was my 500th post. Yay me.
Comments