So my dad's all laid up at home with a bum hip. Or, rather, a new-fangled hip. So, in efforts to entertain him, I'm attempting to write more frequently. At least until he can walk again.
Chris and I were working in the kitchen tonight. It's great to have a life partner, isn't it? We work together and get stuff done and it's great.
I put some leftovers in various sizes of Lilly's lunch containers. Then I started scrubbing some pans.
Chris was collecting garbage, and then I saw him grab Lilly's lunch bag.
Sweet. We're both contributing here, in an equal, helpful, fashion. I have already packed some fruit salad containers and he's going to put together the other pieces . . . huh.
That's weird. He packed that lunch, like, ninja-fast.
Well, he does that. That's why Lilly is always, "so, did Dad pack my lunch?" in a suspicious voice.
He's a fast guy, he'll throw anything in there, it's cool, who cares what's in her lunch. She'll eat it or not. Whatever.
But I can't help it:
"So, you know those containers on the counter were all full of fruit salad, right?"
He sighs, heavily, and with much irritation, as he pulls her lunch bag out of the fridge and unpacks the four separate containers of fruit salad.