Poor Bastards

The bright, sparkling kitchen seems always filled with mouth-watering aromas. He loves his beautiful wife very much, and even more so because she cooks for him every day. No daily over-priced, sub-par restaurant food like Ted and Aimee across the street…poor bastards.

Quietly dropping his keys into the antique dough bowl (a favorite souvenir from their recent honeymoon) he is met with the sweet smell of toasted coconut and rolled oats…dessert! Other days it’s a wonderful casserole of ground turkey, fresh broccoli and cauliflower and brown rice, or roasted chicken and root vegetables. He appreciates how she is always finding new, healthy recipes and does it all on a budget.

He sneaks up behind her just as she’s pulling a cookie sheet from the oven, and wraps his arms around the tiny waist; the dogs barking like crazy from the back yard because they know “daddy” is home from work. She giggles when he nibbles her ear, enjoying their evening ritual, but admonishes him to be careful of the hot pan in her hands. The phone rings. He answers with a smile after three chimes, but not before stealing a quick kiss.

He listens for a couple of minutes and then hangs up on hysterical laughter from the other end; a look of shock and horror has stolen his smile.

“That was Ted”, he says, looking his wife in the eye.  “Aimee overheard you tell the cashier at Food World today: sometimes my husband and my dogs eat the same food.”

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