Today Brad Pitt is home fighting some sort of flu or cold and I’m the nurse taking care of him. Which basically means going up and down from the first floor to the third floor of our house when he texts me “can you come here please” and then he “just wants to tell me something.” (Not annoying at all.)
It also means making food for him. Which, really, is no different than when he is healthy, but whatever. It feels different for some reason.
Anyway, he just emerged from the germ-filled-confines of our bedroom and asked for something to eat.
Me: What would you like?
BP: That. (pointing to my portion of last night’s leftover chicken and rice casserole)
Me: Okay, give me a minute.
[A minute passes as I grab the rest of the leftovers from the fridge and a plate and start divvying out his portion.]
Me: Whoa! This piece of chicken looks just like the Twitter bird!!!
BP: Katie (in the most whiny, exasperated tone you can imagine)
[A few more seconds pass as I continue staring down at the plate of chicken.]
BP: Wait! (Obviously coming to his senses.) Does it really? Let me see.
And then we both stood there, staring at the Twitter-bird-shaped-chicken-breast as I fiddled with a small piece of carrot to better create the beak, until Brad Pitt decided he was dying of hunger and needed his food immediately. But I managed to take a picture for everyone to see.