When you have three kids and your husband is gone a lot and returns home tired to the bone and just falls asleep, you tend to not get much adult interaction. And when that happens, you tend to start having conversations with yourself. And when that time is prolonged for a few weeks, the conversations with yourself in your head turn sideways. All of the sudden you think, “Man if I have to make one more sandwich…! Boy, I’d tell that sandwich…! I’d tell it….!”
Suddenly you have a letter written to a sandwich, that doesn’t exist, and if it did, it did nothing to you to deserve such retribution. And that letter would go something like this:
Dear Sandwich,
We are back to our annual hot-and-heavy-relationship again. I must say that as the days drag on, I find you less and less desirable. Getting together every once in a while is manageable, but lately you have been coming around WAY too much. Lets face it, you have nothing new to offer. When you whittle it down, you are just two slices of bread with a piece or two of meat and cheese in the middle with a little mayo slathered on to provide a little lubrication for the trip down.
Sure, you could be a bit more. A little fluff can really go a long way. In fact, I enjoy a little tomato and lettuce on my sandwich. Heck, I’ll even take some pepper or cucumber to make things a little interesting. But that’s only when its fancy-sandwich-day at home. Sorry to tell you, but a fancy sandwich doesn’t fly out on the range. A juicy tomato turns a sandwich sitting in lunch box in the back of the truck soggy REAL fast. And limp lettuce is even less appealing! Knowing that adding the extras in an attempt to change things up is all just wasted effort and just makes you even less alluring.
I know that if we get creative things could be a little exotic with some tuna. But The Rancher is a land creature and can only take so much tuna. And we could get the creative juices flowing and pull out some spicy mustard and add a little zip or zing to it. Heck, The Rancher even gets creative out on the range when he tries to pep you up with a few chips to give you a little crunch. But even with all the creativity, you are still just two slices of bread with a piece or two of meat and cheese in the middle with a little mayo slathered on to provide a little lubrication for the trip down.
What I am trying to say is that I am done with you. I am tired of all your fixin’s taking up so much space in my fridge. I’m tired of looking for ways to mix it up. I’m tired of making you and then seeing you come home when you just weren’t worth eating. Lets go back to the days of only getting together once in while. A man needs a man lunch that will stick to his sides for these long days. Sorry, but a sandwich day after day isn’t going to cut it. I’m severing ties and turning to cold pizza for now. Go find some other lunch box to fill…
Sincerely (tired of fixing and eating you!),
The Rancher’s Wife
