My boss brought his lunch. "My wife made it for me," he said.
"That's nice," I said.
Sandy shook her head. "My husbands have been on their own. My mom used to make my dad's lunch and I could never understand it."
"I make lunch for my husband," I said.
She rolled her eyes.
"If I don't, he'll eat crap or go out," I said.
"How old is he?" she asked. "Old enough, right?"
This from the woman who wanted to throw away leftover muffins rather than give them to the IT guys because who needs all the extra calories anyhow?
In her very slight - very slight - defense, she does not know that Primo is running for office. I have not told anyone at work because I just don't want to get into any political discussions here.
Maybe she wouldn't roll her eyes if she knew that the reason I make a sandwich for Primo is because he is spending five hours a day walking through the district, knocking on doors and meeting voters. He gets hungry. He's already lost eight pounds. I want him not to be hungry while he's campaigning. So I make him a sandwich. It's not that big a deal. And isn't that the kind of thing you do for someone you love?