I remembered my imaginary post from yesterday (although in my imagination it was a lot longer). It’s a true story my family’s heard me tell lots of times.
The setting was our one-bedroom basement apartment in Amman, Jordan, when Dean and I were newlyweds. We had a bag of mixed peanuts and cashews. Dean was at work and I was eating them while I read a book. I don’t like peanuts very much, so I ate all the peanuts first, leaving only pure, undiluted cashews. Then I went to work and came home to find that Dean had eaten all the cashews. I said, “There’s no delayed gratification in marriage!” Dean answered, “But there’s lots of gratification.”