My wife, bless her heart, (totally un-atheist thing to say…right?) went out today and bought me most of the fixings for an amazing sub.
I say ‘most’ because she forgot to pack the lettuce.
You can see the sad result in the picture I provided. Even now, hours after the event, I feel my eyes burning with unshed tears.
My dear, dear wife (in case she’s reading this, although she almost never does) had the best of intentions. She knew I was working the 12am-8am shift and she wanted her poor, hard-done-by husband to at least have a good meal.
It was close. I somehow managed to choke it down. The crunch was missing, but I persevered. I wasn’t going to let a mere sandwich defeat me with its un-lettuce-y…un-lettuce-y-ness. I powered through each bite as if it were my last meal…minus the best part, of course, which would have been the lettuce.
It now sits like a lump in my stomach – a reminder of its total lack of leafy goodness.
If you must, please pray for me.
Otherwise, let me continue to sulk in misery.