I'll have what SHE'S having

So, you know how I live with my mommy and daddy, right? Well, my mom makes my breakfast and snacks for me. I know, I know. But I tell her she doesn't have to and she claims that she doesn't mind, so I let her. And some days she says, "I don't feel like making your toast and snack tomorrow, so you need to do it yourself." And I say, "Ok." And she makes it anyway. So what can I do? But I think she's getting passive aggressive with my snacks. I always take a tomato juice and a bag of celery and carrots on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday, and a variety of snacks on Tuesday and Thursday. But she's started screwing it all up, and she'll send the celery and carrots on Tuesday and Thursday. And a lot of times she'll just send carrots, and I've told her I really prefer celery. She says she got confused on the days, but she didn't change back after I pointed it out to her. Passive aggressive.

She used to make my lunch too, but then she was always bitching about it, and I would feel bad, so we got into a huge fight about it and now she doesn't make my lunch anymore. At first she stopped making my lunch to punish me, but I was so glad about it, she stopped altogether. So every once in a while she tries to make me lunch, and I tell her not to, and she gets upset, and we go on. Well, yesterday, (meaning last Tuesday, as I started writing this post last Wednesday and never got around to finishing it.) I walk in and see that she has a bag of frozen shrimp sitting on the counter, which means she's been thinking about making lunch for me again. And, it's not even started yet, so even if she insisted on making it, it probably wouldn't be ready in time and I'd have to rush to eat before going back to work. I hate when she pulls this crap. so with a sigh of annoyance, I say, "There's frozen shrimp sitting out," so that we can go ahead and get this nonsense out of the way. She says, "Yeah, I was thinking about making you some shrimp scampi for lunch." "Well, there's no need for that, I'll just have a peanut butter sandwich," is what I was going to say, but instead I found the words, "Shrimp scampi? That's sounds really good," escaping my lips, unbidden, in meek subservient tones. "Yeah, and I thought that you could cut some slices of avocado and tomato and make an avocado salad to go with it," says she. "Oooh, avocado salad?" I say breathlessly. I have now entered the early stages of culinary orgasm. I call it the excited and tingly stage. "Can you hand me the butter and lime juice?" she says. *Oh yeah* "Do you think 3 cloves of garlic is enough?" *gasp grunt grunt* I cut up the avocados, which are perfectly green without a speck of brown *Ohhh* and are the perfect softness *oh baby, oh yeah* and the tomatoes, which are at the peak of sweet ripeness. *OHH OHH* I adorn them with lime juice, *AHH* salt, *UHHH* lemon pepper, *GASP* and garlic powder. *OH YES!* The shrimp is cooked up quickly and mom piles half on my plate, and I quickly fill up the other half of the plate with avocado salad. *YES! YES!!* I try to eat slowly, but I can't help it, my breath comes quickly as I savor every succulent bite. *OH GOD! YES YES!!* Mom says, "I can't eat the rest of this avocado salad, do you want the rest? "Sure," I reply. *AH AHHH AHHHH Aaaahhhhh* Oh fuck that was good. Man. That means I have to be nice to mom for like a whole week. *sigh* It's a natural of losing control I guess. I think it was worth it, though.