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June 2009

Overheard: My Brave Husband

As I was preparing dinner my husband cautiously approached. He walked slowly as if attempting to grab a rattlesnake by surprise. Still, he smiled as he said:

HIM: Honey, I’ve been meaning to talk to you about this, but I didn’t want to talk about it too close to the event. You know, so please don’t take it personally.

ME: [going cold, thinking there is horrific news to be had] Uh, okay.

HIM: Well. It’s about dinner. You know, when you make pasta it’s a little rubbery.

ME: [relieved beyond belief and giggling a little, my marriage is fine] Rubbery?

HIM: Yes, it’s like you put down a bowl of rubber bands with glue on it. It used to be good, but something bad has happened to your pasta lately.

ME: It’s the same as I’ve always made it. I guess I can start buying another brand.

HIM: Honey if you want, I can buy you a pasta machine or something. Maybe that will make it better?

This ends the tale of how our favorite Italian restaurants stay in business.