Since arriving in London two weeks ago, my scone consumption has spiked to record highs and I’ve been eating jam straight up with a spoon.
(If I’m being honest, I actually eat jam with a spoon outside of London too. I began this classy habit as an attempt to replace my chocolate habit and now I’m not sure which one is worse.)
Anyway, in an effort to regain control over the scones and jam, I decided to make a carb-free, sugar-free dinner a few nights ago.
Unfortunately I had no choice but to ask Ali to pick up some potatoes (an acceptable carb in my book) at Marks & Spencer, because Maya and I couldn’t get there before they closed (because we were eating scones, of course).
Me: Can you pick up baking potatoes on your way home? They come four in a bag.
Ali: Four what?
Me: Four potatoes.
Ali: In a box?
Me: No, in a BAG. A BAG.
Ali: Hmm. I’ll FaceTime you from Marks.
At this point I should have given up. But in lieu of quitting I decided to employ sarcasm instead.
Me: No, don’t FaceTime me. Or call me. Or text me. As a matter of fact, I won’t look at my phone for the next hour. You can navigate Marks & Spencer. I know you can! Come home with the potatoes. Or not. Either way I can’t talk about it for one more second.
Guess what happened?
- Ali brought home 4 potatoes.
- In a bag.
- I didn’t get a call asking me any questions.
- I didn’t get a text asking me any questions.
- He didn’t FaceTime me.
- I made homemade fries and scrambled eggs. And they were fabulous.
A happy ending for a change?