He loves me, he loves me not

by Katie on August 29, 2009

I tried to be really nice a few days ago.

Brandon hadn’t eaten lunch yet, and was pulling into the field below our house to start cutting hay in the afternoon. I made him a couple of sandwiches, (Yes, a couple are required. Don’t let his waistline fool you.) and threw a granola bar, some fruit snacks and cookies into a lunch cooler for him.
When I met him at the lower end of the field, he just hopped in the truck with me for a few mintues to eat his sandwiches.
We’re talking, and I notice him begin to pick at his sandwich.
“What’s wrong? Does it taste funny?” I ask.
This was totally possible. On our weekend trip to Utah, the ice packs we had in the mini cooler with the lunch meat and deli cheese melted before we made it home. We both inspected everything when we got back and it seemed fine. No odor or mold.
“Oh, just the piece of paper that’s on the cheese,” he said.

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