He giggles, "You know, I'm still hungry."
"I could eat again...I'm not really full either," I throw out the way a little child does with an encouraging nod and a wink that ensures he'll ultimately get what he wants.
He bites. "Well, I could go to Marsh. If you could have anything you want, what would it be?"
"My favorite is Ben and Jerry's Phish Food. You'd love it -- chocolate ice cream full of mini chocolate fish and intersecting rivers of caramel and marshmallow cream.Will you try to find that?"
Our eyes meet; he reads them like a billboard.
Then he advances a knowing glance. One that covers my tired body like a cozy blanket. One that acknowledges the strife I feel when analyzing (and over-analyzing) my next career move and lets me know that it will be alright. One that soothes my spirit by plying it with sweet treats, because even if it doesn't make any sense to my diet...it most surely does for my mental health.
Guy Fieri continues to jabber about greasy treats, cheesy delights, and desserts slathered in sauces; I keep typing.
I won't lie -- I'm looking forward to the perfect bite of Phish Food that is speckled with a little ice cream, oozing with a caramel, marshmallowy river, and built on one perfectly incorporated chocolate fish.
I think I hear the garage door opening...