After spending the morning with Addison, I was really hungry, so I passed her over to Lindsay and went to the kitchen. What does it say about me that it suddenly seemed like too much work to make a peanut butter sandwich? All that spreading, and getting out multiple ingredients...
I hate lots of food prep when I'm hungry. When I start feeling a little empty, my tummy needs food in it, and it needs it in it now. If I had low blood sugar or something, you might not fault me too much, but the only diagnosis that really sticks to me is: laziness. Also, that I don't care much about food. I'd just as soon eat cold cereal as anything else for three meals a day.
Too bad Lindsay doesn't like to cook either. Addison's gonna have to get used to cold refried beans sandwiched between little pieces of tortilla, at least until we make enough money to hire a personal chef. That's what I served up for her last night. I did ask Addison if she wanted her gourmet meal warm or cold, but she said cold, which felt like a gift from God. And then she ate it. My wife and mother-in-law try to get her to eat much fancier stuff all the time, which she refuses more often than not. So, I win.
Also, I did end up making the peanut butter sandwich. I have a great capacity for doing hard things.
