another incident involving a sandwich
I tried to seem super busy and stressed out yesterday morning before I headed off to work, because I could feel Ali about to ask me for a favor. Apparently I didn’t look busy enough.
Ali: “Is there anything you can make me for lunch?
Me: “I don’t know. All we have are leftover scrambled eggs.” (I wasn’t kidding when I said I can’t throw food out.) “Do you want an egg sandwich?”
Ali: “An egg sandwich?”
Me: “Yes, an egg sandwich.”
Ali: (Insert a 5 minute pause here. 5 solid minutes – I kid you not.) “I guess.”
My mind was going haywire with comments but I somehow managed not to voice any of them. Instead I marched myself into the kitchen and made him a sandwich.
I'll spare you a picture of the sandwich...how about one of my kid at Beverly Center
Fast forward to 12 hours later when we were eating dinner.
Me: “How was your egg sandwich?”
Ali: “It was okay.”
Me: “What do you mean by just okay?”
Ali: “Well why did you put ketchup in it?”
Me: “Because you always eat ketchup with your eggs.”
Ali: “No I don’t.”
Me: “I see. So the big pile of ketchup you’ve had on your plate every time you’ve eaten eggs for the last 11 years we’ve been married has been for appearances sake only.”
I’m just exhausted. And it has nothing to do with being tired.
i’m checking out
We rarely go out to dinner.
This is mostly my fault actually, because I prefer to lounge around in my pajamas when I’m eating. Comfort is my number one priority, as it should be.
So it’s for reasons still unknown to me that we randomly braved the crazy Santa Ana winds and hit up Crustacean last week. And on a Wednesday no less!
What do you think I did the instant we were seated? Order Crustacean’s famously fabulous greasy garlic noodles? Pretend to care about what Ali and Maya did that day? Tell Maya to stop complaining every five seconds or I was going to smack her upside the head?
Well yes. To all three things. But those three things occurred only after Ali and I addressed the most important thing on the agenda: we “checked-in” to Crustacean on Facebook.
For a moment updating my Facebook status seemed super important. But then, as we discussed who was going to tag who, I felt…oddly pathetic. And of course I subsequently felt the need to analyze my behavior.
I came up with two thoughts:
- I “check-in” because I’m at a really cool place and I want everyone to know how cool I am because I’m there.
- I “check-in” because I want attention.
an impressive reproduction
While my husband has no problem living among chaos and clutter, it is incomprehensible that his car would be in anything but pristine condition. This means that whatever money he isn’t spending on Starbucks lattes goes towards washing his precious automobile.
You’re probably wondering “Why do you care how often he gets his car washed Ameena, as long as you don’t have to do it?”
Well I’m annoyed because despite my numerous requests, my husband refuses to remove my sunglasses from his car prior to taking it to the car wash. This means that my glasses keep getting stolen.
Ameena's Sunglasses - 2009-2011
Instead of doing the smart thing – which would be troll eBay for a replacement pair – my husband asked the following question:
Ali: “Why do you keep putting sunglasses in my car?”
Me: “Allow me to break it down for you for the billionth time: I keep a pair in your car so that when you’re out of gas and take my car – yet again – I am able to ensure minimal exposure to the blinding L.A. sun. “
As expected, my complaint was met with total silence. Instead, Ali left this admittedly impressive reproduction of my glasses on my desk this morning. Because apparently, it’s supposed to make up for the fact that the real ones are gone.
There’s nothing left to say. Except maybe RIP wherever you are pretty Chanel glasses.
While I'm not going to win Mother/Wife of the Year Award anytime soon, I haven't killed anyone yet or shot myself in the head. And that, my friends, is how I calculate success these days. 
FANCY THAT FANCY THIS 