Today— second day in a row, my egg for breakfast had two yolks. Is it good, or bad? You decide!
Most people I know discard the yolk. My late husband, and I tried having only white, and throwing away the yolk. I was keeping him company in eating the white. He was following doctor’s orders. He did it for a month, and then left it. I followed suit.
Why be a martyr, when the person who is supposed to be eating whites only isn’t doing it?
I consider myself a martyr. The question arises why do I think so? I am, because for the last so many years I am putting up with a dish which my Afghan neighbors make, and send to me. I hate it, and sadly I don’t have the courage to tell them. Every time it comes, I eat a spoon, or so, and the rest I consign to the garbage.
I feel guilty in the sense that they wasted hours on it, and I don’t like it. I wish they didn’t make me eat it. The dish does have a strange name, and I have been totally unable to grasp it. Every time they pronounce the name, in reply I ask, “eh?”.
They repeat it. Again another “eh?” I gave up trying to get its’ name.
Write a new post in response to today’s one-word prompt.