Friday, June 30, 2006
Everyday (well almost everyday) my husband heads off to work with a freshly packed lunch by yours truly. Sometimes it's a sandwich, sometimes leftovers, but I generally try to make sure the man is properly fed. Lord knows he might break his hand making his own PB & J. He says mine just taste better. Hmmmm.
Anyway, he came home the other day and was telling me that there is this guy in his squadron also named Dan (we'll call him Dan2) who is newly married. Dan2 comes to work every and pulls out his freshly packed lunch and goes on and about how fantastic his wife is and who wonderful her cooking is and how he is so lucky that she takes care of him. All together now, "Ahhhhh!" (puke) Right?
So my Dan procedes to tell me that just isn't his style and he would never gush on like that about me. Swoon! I just sat there and looked at him like he was from Mars. Seriously, I am falling in love with you all over again. He smirks.
Then Dan tells me that just that day he took leftovers of my pulled pork sandwhiches to work and was warming it up. Dan2 walks in and says "Mmmm, that smells good. What is it?" My Dan replies, "Oh just a bbq sandwich my wife made for me."
His theory is that he doesn't need to brag about me or my cooking because it speaks for itself. Sweet. Armed with a smirk on his face, "You just do too many wonderful things for me to brag about just one." High praise or just trying to dig out of a hole with a shovel? I'll take it.