Help!I'maRock!
Mediocringly Derivative
My wife, the amazing lawyer, is apparently not amused. She's a sandwich traditionalist. A sandwich is a sandwich and a hot dog on a bun is a hot dog on a bun.
Our son has these two piece matching puzzles. You find the two pieces and it's an illustration of a puppy, an ice cream cone, a kite, etc. Yesterday, he found a hot dog. I said, "hot dog! NO!! Sandwich!" He says, "sandwich!" She was in the other room, reading, after a difficult day at work. So I give the boy the puzzle pieces and say, "go tell Mommy, 'sandwich!'"
He runs full speed (toddlers don't have another speed) into the room. "Mama!"
"Yes, baby"
"Look! Sandwich!"
She says, "yeah, it's a hot WAIT! Nooooooo! Hot dog!"
"No mama, sandwich!"
"Hot dog"
"Sand wich"
She couldn't talk him out of it. It's a sandwich. She comes in, glares at me, and turns back.
Three hours later she comes in with the puzzle pieces, throws them at me, exclaims, "it's a hot dog!", and storms into the bedroom
I laugh.
"I was so excited to hear him tell me it was a hot dog and then he says SANDWICH!"
I'm practically in tears at this point. In part because of the absurdity of it all. But also because of how she says "sandwich." She doesn't say "sandwich." She says, "SANDwich!". It's a long a, and makes it sound majestic. Like if you say the name Adam Ant, "Adam" has a long a, and you say "Ant" like the insect, it's a short a. So a long a, like Adam. And there's a ton of unwitting "El Guapo" humor in the delivery. Oh, it's not a sandwich, it's a SANDwich! It's way more than just a plebeian sandwich. And over the course of this argument, she's said "SANDwich" like 14 times and I'm ready to piss myself.
But wait, it gets better. Apparently, this culmination of events is such a horrendous part of my humor, that it ranks third our all-time arguments, which are also completely ridiculous.
I feel like I've really accomplished something tonight. We've made some good headway in our marriage. Now let's see if junior can sleep past 4:30am.
Our son has these two piece matching puzzles. You find the two pieces and it's an illustration of a puppy, an ice cream cone, a kite, etc. Yesterday, he found a hot dog. I said, "hot dog! NO!! Sandwich!" He says, "sandwich!" She was in the other room, reading, after a difficult day at work. So I give the boy the puzzle pieces and say, "go tell Mommy, 'sandwich!'"
He runs full speed (toddlers don't have another speed) into the room. "Mama!"
"Yes, baby"
"Look! Sandwich!"
She says, "yeah, it's a hot WAIT! Nooooooo! Hot dog!"
"No mama, sandwich!"
"Hot dog"
"Sand wich"
She couldn't talk him out of it. It's a sandwich. She comes in, glares at me, and turns back.
Three hours later she comes in with the puzzle pieces, throws them at me, exclaims, "it's a hot dog!", and storms into the bedroom
I laugh.
"I was so excited to hear him tell me it was a hot dog and then he says SANDWICH!"
I'm practically in tears at this point. In part because of the absurdity of it all. But also because of how she says "sandwich." She doesn't say "sandwich." She says, "SANDwich!". It's a long a, and makes it sound majestic. Like if you say the name Adam Ant, "Adam" has a long a, and you say "Ant" like the insect, it's a short a. So a long a, like Adam. And there's a ton of unwitting "El Guapo" humor in the delivery. Oh, it's not a sandwich, it's a SANDwich! It's way more than just a plebeian sandwich. And over the course of this argument, she's said "SANDwich" like 14 times and I'm ready to piss myself.
But wait, it gets better. Apparently, this culmination of events is such a horrendous part of my humor, that it ranks third our all-time arguments, which are also completely ridiculous.
I feel like I've really accomplished something tonight. We've made some good headway in our marriage. Now let's see if junior can sleep past 4:30am.
