Not my finest.

You should know I’m not proud of this story. It is embarrassing and lazy and really one of my lower moments… which is why of course I decided to share it.

The other night Jazz made a hot dog. Just a regular hot dog in the microwave- nothing special. He let me have the last tiny end bite so I didn’t get any gross cheese or relish. Of course after tasting such a delicious meat treat, I wanted one of my own. Jazz offered to make me one, and I accepted.

And I micro-managed from the couch.

“Make sure the bun doesn’t break when you open it!”

“I like my hot dog wrapped in paper towel when you cook it!”

“I like it cooked about 50 seconds!”

But, cmon people this is nothing new. My patient spouse cooked my food accordingly.

“ONLY ONE STRAIGHT LINE OF KETCHUP, PLEASE.”

Jazz brought me my hot dog. It looked like this.

What we have learned:
     -I like my hot dog with one single line of ketchup. One.
     -I am very lazy.