It’s a common understanding in my family that I am pretty picky. (Who me?) A staple for me is turkey sandwiches. It’s seems pretty simple, but even with that, I am picky. The turkey can’t be too thick (I usually ask for it shaved at the deli counter); I require a higher bread to turkey ratio than most, etc… I top the turkey with lettuce only. And if it’s a wild day, I’ll venture to put some chips on the sandwich too. (Doritos are the best for that!)
This morning as Jeremy and I packed our lunches, we debated over who would eat a turkey sandwich and who would eat the leftover spaghetti. I think we both wanted the spaghetti. But after dealing with a Mason meltdown, I went back to the kitchen and Jeremy told me I could have the spaghetti. I asked why, and he told me that the turkey he bought at the store was thick and he was sure I wouldn’t like it. I think he even mentioned something about it being slimy – the second worse fate for turkey!
So the good I found today is the selflessness of my hubby. He went to work with slimy turkey on a salad, while I got to enjoy the last bit of spaghetti. That’s love!