flickr.
Once upon a time, a long long time ago (seriously, a really long time ago) being the good wife that I am, I decided it would be nice to make Greg some of his favorite sandwiches for lunch. To me, making his sandwiches are a huge pain in the butt - they have a million ingredients (turkey, roast beef, lettuce, tomato, cucumber, toast...) And I don't know, I'm happy making him dinner every night, but for some reason it just annoys me to make sandwiches. I guess what I'm trying to say is: the fact that I was making him these sandwiches was a sacrifice.
Nonetheless, I make him these two beautiful, delicious looking sandwiches, stacked high with all of his favorite ingredients... perfectly toasted bread, extra little veggies on the side for a little snack, I probably even poured him a big glass of tea, too. I proudly served him, and after he took a few bites, I asked him how he liked his sandwiches. His Highness replied, "they're fine, but they're in the wrong order. I like the layers of ingredients to be in this order..." and he proceeded to explain this stupid and ridiculous order of ingredients.
I was pissed. I told him I wasn't going to make him his stupid, complicated sandwiches ever again. And I didn't! Until today. He said he was having a bad day, so I texted him to see if there was anything I could do to help him out and he asked me to make his sandwiches. Ugh! So I begrudgingly made them, without bothering with whatever his magical sandwich ingredient order is. He ate them and didn't say a thing about it :)
He has also learned never to make "this would be really good if..." comments about my dinners. After about 6 of those, I went on strike for a while ;)
<3 Lindsay