Jay loves to make a really weird sandwich that I find absolutely disgusting. But he insists it is incredibly delicious. You be the judge: Peanut butter and bologna. Not a peanut butter sandwich with a bologna sandwich. Nope. Not for my unique (odd) husband. A peanut butter AND bologna sandwich. YUCK!
Anyway, we were in the kitchen making lunch and teasing and picking at each other. We were all giggling and laughing and having a great time. I was teasing Jay about his awful choice of sandwiches, commenting on how normal people do not combine those flavors... at least not on purpose.
He grabbed me around the waist, tickling me, and said, "Quit being judgmental."
A few minutes later, as we all sat around the table eating our delicious meals (well, except for Jay's, which is gross), R, (who just happens to be blond like her mom), calmly and innocently asks, "Who is George Mental?"
After the tears and laughter subsided, we had to explain to her what it meant to be judgmental .
7 years ago