Deja Vu

When the Husband and I were dating, in the early days, when he wasn't the Husband he was just This Guy that I Think I Might Like but I Can't Tell if He Likes me or Just Thinks I'm Odd--well, we used to go to lunch. I was horrifically poor, choosing to buy books for a special project (on Anna Akhmatova) and put gas in my car to get to school rather than buy food. And the Guy that I Think I Might Like but I Can't Tell if He Likes me or Just Thinks I'm Odd, he would meet me on campus and we would walk up to this lovely Indian restaurant (Bombay Cafe) for their excellent lunch buffet. Many days it was my only meal and the Guy that I Think I Might Like but I Can't Tell if He Likes me or Just Thinks I'm Odd, he LOVES him some Indian food. So we would eat and talk and eat and talk and gradually meander back to a bus and back to his apartment where we both grab our homework--I was usually reading some enormous book and the Guy that I Think I Might Like but I Can't Tell if He Likes me or Just Thinks I'm Odd was usually studying Chemistry; or rather, we would read and study until we both fell into a food induced coma. This was the sum total of our dating experience.

Today we revisited that lovely time. We went for Indian buffet lunch and came home and the Boy was sound asleep so I laid down for a lovely nap and 15 minutes later WAAAAAH!!! The Husband tried valiantly to explain to the Boy the sacred nature of this sequence of events in Burnstopia. He cordially refuses to adhere. We have hope that as he ages he comes to recognize the magical blessing of Indian food for lunch followed by a lovely nap.