We walked to Victoria Street and ate Thai food. There were a couple of kids at the next table watching Dora on an Apple Touch, it was making a lot of noise. I wanted to leave, but Sam didn’t see it that way. He thought I was being difficult, he didn’t see it my way at all.
“Stop being hard to get along with.” Grimace. “What do you want to order?”
What do I want to order?
Bleep, bleep! Blurt, blurt! Barp, barp! Wha, wha! Boop, boop! Zeep, zeep! Rar, rar! Wha, wha! Barp, barp! Blurt, blurt!
I look up at Sam who is reading the menu intently.
“No, I really don’t want to have to sit here and listen to that.”
He stops reading the menu and tunes into the brats behind him.
Bleep, bleep! Blurt, blurt! Barp, barp! Wha, wha! Boop, boop! Zeep, zeep! Rar, rar! Wha, wha! Barp, barp! Blurt, blurt!
“Can’t you just ignore it?”
“Um… no, I can’t.”
“Just read the menu.”
“No, I really don’t want to listen to that throughout my meal.”
“What do you want to do then?”
“Leave. Go somewhere else.”
“What? Now?” Roll of the eyes. Exasperated look.
“Yes.”
He looks around. He sees a table vacant right at the back of the restaurant. Begrudgingly, he gets up and heads to the back of the shop without looking back at me. I get up and follow him.
He sits down. I sit down.
“How is this?”
It’s a bit dark, truthfully. “It was much nicer in the window.”
Sam rolls his eyes. “No noise, though.”
“It’s okay, sure.”
He thought I was being difficult. “How many cafes/restaurants are there in Victoria Street?”
“What do you mean?”
“I’m just saying we could easily have gone to another eating establishment. One without children playing noisy games.”
Walking around instead of driving is nice, it makes the whole inner suburbs experience so much nicer. The thing is, that our days are so taken up with eating, that by the time we walk back from one meal, it is almost time to start thinking about the next one.
We hang at home for the time in between. It’s good.
We went for a walk to the supermarket to get food for dinner. We had everything for risotto except for the chicken and mushrooms. I saw Brussels sprouts in the fruit and veg section and wondered about Brussels sprout and beacon risotto. Sam turned up his nose, but I’m sure it would be a goer.
I was stirring it on the stove when Shane came down from his room.
“It smells like a Sam. It smells like a Sam,” he said. He came and stood right next to me. “It smells like a Sam.” Shane looked at me, he looked at me stirring the pot.
Too stupid, I thought. Not only am I cooking it, but why would it necessarily be a Sam?
“Yum,” said Shane and he left the kitchen.
I looked at Sam. “Why would it have to be a Sam?” He smiled and shrugged.
I don’t know why, but he is just pissing me off, lately.
What am I going to do with my life is never far from my thoughts, continually bubbling away in the cauldron of stress that I am keeping a lid on.
What did Steve Jobs say, do what you love.
What did Aby say recently, don’t settle for pointless another finance and figures job.
No comments:
Post a Comment