Tragic Sandwich

Food. Family. Fun.

A Non-Tragic Sandwich Story

So today we had friends over for a cookout. Hours later, it’s time for dinner, and we decide to grill some of the leftovers.

First, though, Mr. Sandwich is going for a run. He says, “Will you make me a sandwich?” and tells me how much turkey and cheese to put in it (this is not bossy; he makes his own sandwiches).

So I make him a sandwich and toast it, just as he likes.

And then I say, “I made you a sandwich.” And he says, “Thanks. That’ll save me time in the morning.”

Because it turns out that he didn’t want it toasted, so that he could eat it now. He wanted it assembled, so that he could toast it at work tomorrow.

But the story ends happily. Because I ate the sandwich.


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