My bologna has a first name...

This is what I picture Tim like as a kid. adorable.

Sometimes there are moments in time that are just too funny that you have to write them down.
Since Tim and I became Tim and I, there have been many of these moments that I will forever cherish in my heart. One being when Tim tried to teach me how to use tinsel on the Christmas tree because that's what his family did. Another being the discussion of just what is the right amount of peanut butter to jelly in a PB&J sandwich.  There are things that Tim grew up with and things that I grew up with that are very different. It's no secret that we remember pieces of our childhood based on food, the smell, the taste, the special occasion that it was made for. Because Tim and I were both lucky enough to be both the first child and first grand children in our families, there was a lot of growth and...well, ginney-pig-ness.  I don't really know how else to describe it.  I can't speak for Tim's memories, but I know that I loved nothing more than what my mom and I called a "girl's night" where we would rent a movie and make a taco salad or pigs-in-a-blanket. It was cheap and easy for my Mom and I loved it -- a win/win.

While at the grocery store on Saturday, Tim requested some bologna. I cringed. I didn't grow up eating sandwiches, instead I was that strange kid with cheese & crackers or veggies and ranch dip (before ranch made the small to-go dipping cups, mind you). So, this morning when I went to make Tim's sandwich for his lunch, I picked out some ham and the bologna and made the sandwich as I usually do. Two pieces of bread, mayo, cheese and the meat.  Nothing fancy, we wouldn't want it to get soggy sitting in a truck most of the day.

((Now, before you go nuts because I make Tim's lunch. Let me just say, it saves us money, we don't waste food and it's much better for us than going out every day. It takes all of 5 minutes and it makes sense. He knows he's lucky that I make his lunch. There's no need to give him a hard time about it.))

Alright, so back to the story:
After I made our lunches, I went back upstairs to get ready for work. I told him about the surprise bologna in his sandwich and he LIT UP. I mean it. It was like I told him that we were playing hookie and going fishing tomorrow.  Then he asked, "how much ketchup did you put on the sandwich? not too much right?"

Um. WAIT. excuseme? whatwasthat? didyoureallyjustsay ketchup?.

I told him that there wasn't any ketchup on his sandwich and then explained how I had made it. He cringed and the lit up look had vanished!

Apparently his bologna sandwich requires bread, ketchup & bologna. That's it. What was I thinking? How could I?

*He did call to let me know he ate the sandwich the way that I made it, but that he ate it with a small look of disgust. I'll have you know that my face was filled with disgust too. That all sounds repulsive to me! Who's really pregnant here, Tim's the one busy nesting and having cravings (that sound beyond weird).