Food for Thought

by Amy Soricelli

Went out to dinner the other night with the man i married so many years ago
we commented over the menu which was much too big.
The other table by the window which should have been ours
had some small child crawling over the seats like she was home
my grandmother used to say.
Was glad to be over that / the constancy of that.
Our food was okay not great drank a lot of wine.
Next to us on the other side closer to the kitchen where
we were glad not to be was a couple in a fight.
She was cutting her food with great emotion and he had none
so it seemed. So i said.
My husband of many years said he was glad that wasn't us.
I thought - sweet - he cares when we fight.
This is why we take the long road and get through the shit so he can say
stuff like that.   So i said.
Oh
he said.
Okay.  I meant the kitchen.
Hate being so close to the kitchen.