When my brother and I were in what was then called junior high school there was a period of about a month when he and I would eat our evening meal by ourselves. Dad was working a shift that kept him through the early evening. Mom was seeing to a sick relative in the evening, but she left our meals for us to warm up.
Being in those ravenous high growth teen years, both of us tackled food like it might escape if we didn’t subdue it and consume it rapidly. Manners fell by the wayside. We were so intent on eating that we barely talked. If my brother wanted the butter, instead of “Will you pass me the butter?” he would just point at it with one hand while the other hand wielded a fork to stab another morsel… and his mouth was occupied with the last forkful. I fell into the same pattern: Point at the salt, your brother pushes it toward you.
One hamburger night, a lapse on my part. For whatever reason, I spoke my request: “Can you pass me the mustard?”
Without even a split second of comic pause, he said, “What’s the matter? Cat got your finger?”
Yes, it cracked me up. (But maybe you had to be there?)
He was a pretty quick wit for a thirteen year old.
I’m the cook in the house. If my wonderful spouse ever gripes, my response is “You’re more than welcome to start cooking. I’m tired of it anyway.” She rarely gripes any more.
Many decades ago, my then boyfriend (now husband) and I were eating in a small restaurant in Venice, Italy. We had ordered a 4 course meal, including salad, soup, entree and dessert. When the salad was served, I did not like my choice. Boyfriend, being totally smitten, traded plates with me. The server looked twice when clearing the table but said nothing. This then continued through all courses until the dessert. The server then gave me my honey’s gelato without comment and served him my cake. Which of course we then traded….and ended up trading back again. 46 years and going strong. I always trade bites with him wherever we go.
BE THIS GUY almost 4 years ago
She knows where your hands have been.
amethyst52 Premium Member almost 4 years ago
You would get a fork in the back of your hand if you tried that with my dinner.
jimmjonzz Premium Member almost 4 years ago
When my brother and I were in what was then called junior high school there was a period of about a month when he and I would eat our evening meal by ourselves. Dad was working a shift that kept him through the early evening. Mom was seeing to a sick relative in the evening, but she left our meals for us to warm up.
Being in those ravenous high growth teen years, both of us tackled food like it might escape if we didn’t subdue it and consume it rapidly. Manners fell by the wayside. We were so intent on eating that we barely talked. If my brother wanted the butter, instead of “Will you pass me the butter?” he would just point at it with one hand while the other hand wielded a fork to stab another morsel… and his mouth was occupied with the last forkful. I fell into the same pattern: Point at the salt, your brother pushes it toward you.
One hamburger night, a lapse on my part. For whatever reason, I spoke my request: “Can you pass me the mustard?”
Without even a split second of comic pause, he said, “What’s the matter? Cat got your finger?”
Yes, it cracked me up. (But maybe you had to be there?)
He was a pretty quick wit for a thirteen year old.
Breadboard almost 4 years ago
Well she just didn’t like what you ordered ….
jagedlo almost 4 years ago
I’d tread carefully if I were you guy, that look on her face says it all!
cdward almost 4 years ago
I always order or make extra because I know how much she’ll take. We’ve been doing it that way for 30 years, so you figure that stuff out.
uniquename almost 4 years ago
Why is her wine glass so much smaller than his?
JudithStocker Premium Member almost 4 years ago
It could be that he (or she) isn’t in a place where they don’t wear a mask.
Nyckname almost 4 years ago
https://nypost.com/wp-content/uploads/sites/2/2019/07/mama-ds.jpg
PO' DAWG almost 4 years ago
Food sharing is a sign of romance. Hope for his sake she isn’t gonna give him “the talk”
Lee26 Premium Member almost 4 years ago
I’m the cook in the house. If my wonderful spouse ever gripes, my response is “You’re more than welcome to start cooking. I’m tired of it anyway.” She rarely gripes any more.
mistercatworks almost 4 years ago
Your dieting does not involve my dieting.
MissScarlet Premium Member almost 4 years ago
Many decades ago, my then boyfriend (now husband) and I were eating in a small restaurant in Venice, Italy. We had ordered a 4 course meal, including salad, soup, entree and dessert. When the salad was served, I did not like my choice. Boyfriend, being totally smitten, traded plates with me. The server looked twice when clearing the table but said nothing. This then continued through all courses until the dessert. The server then gave me my honey’s gelato without comment and served him my cake. Which of course we then traded….and ended up trading back again. 46 years and going strong. I always trade bites with him wherever we go.
buflogal! almost 4 years ago
Gee, I wonder what the veal is like? Why don’t you order it?