Overeating And Begging.

This afternoon Taylor and I made linner. (That's what I call the meal we eat on Sunday's when we fast, because I can never actually make it to dinner time but then it feels like cheating if I eat at noon, so instead we settle for a nice, well-rounded 2:30 linner.) And to be quite honest this linner meal is one that will surely be used for years and ages to come. And while I wish I could take the credit for it, I can't, because alas I have stolen the recipe from my friend (because guys, I have a friend here. Talk about Christmas miracles!) when she and her family had us over for actual dinner one night. It consisted of chicken and bullion, beans, and more! And I won't bore you with the details because on paper it doesn't sound all that glorious, but in actuality it was and that husband and I ate waaaaaaaaaay too much. We sat on the couch afterwards, each of us on either end of the couch with our legs overlapping each others and it was there that we moaned in discomfort while holding our (own) stomach's that were five sizes larger than they should have been. And in the midst of moaning I walked into the kitchen to grab at least three of the cookies that I had made prior to dinner because surely that was going to make everything better. But as it turns out, it didn't.

After eating the cookies, I decided it would be a good idea to walk to our friend's house (the same friend mentioned above, because remember, we still only have one pair of friend's.) to bring them a plate of cookies. We borrowed vanilla from them to make the cookies and doesn't that qualify you as being an official Mormon family in the making or something? Borrowing ingredients from neighbors on Sunday's and stuff? I should think so!

So the walking. Sure. I was optimistic that that was definitely going to help us digest our food sooner and help us to feel better in no time. But instead what ended up happening is that we both just complained to each other the entire way about how full we were, and discussed the things we would give to be able to lie down in the lawn of the stranger's house we were walking past. The further we walked, the worse it got. And really, why do American's do this to themselves? I'll never understand it. However, that said, I will forever continue to overeat for reasons unbeknownst to either you or I, except that in the moment it just...feels so right.

Finally, after dropping off the cookies and at least 15 minutes straight of walking, we arrived to our home wherein we both promptly crawled upstairs to lay on our bed at 5:30 p.m. The sighs of relief came the moment we hit the mattress and all seemed well in the world.

That is until I realized that the cookies needed to be put away downstairs and that I needed the laptop to be able to do important Facebook research and things like that. So then I said, without actually looking at him and making rapid eye movements in his direction to monitor his reaction, "Oh daaaaang it. I think I have to go back downstairs and put away the cookies and also get your computer.........." To which he responded, "Oh. Cool," with complete indifference and without even looking at me! To which I said, "Unleeeeess you feel like going down there.......anddoingallthosethingsforme." (that last part was said really fast, and also really quiet because isn't that how we as a people always talk when we start asking for favors that we know the other person doesn't really want to do?)

But it was all to no avail because his response was, "Nope." This went on for quite some time until I started begging. Once I brought out the big guns he succumbed and while walking down the stairs said, "I sure love you!" To which I said, "I know!" while my shoulders did a little dance. Then he came back upstairs with the computer that allowed me to write this pointless post (which, aren't you so grateful?!) and then we started talking in British accents to each other because on accident he said, "You're lucky I'm so noice." And then I said, "Noice?" And so that's how that started.

And just now I said, "Wow, I sure am thirsty," while pretending to still be intently writing about really important things. To which he responded, "Neat. I think there's water downstairs."

I guess we all have our limits.