His is Better

It's a well-known fact around here that I make a better sandwich than Jon and he makes a better sandwich than I do.

I make a better salad than Jon and he makes a better salad than I do.

A salad is just better if someone else makes it for you.
A sandwich is always better if someone else prepares it.

I am a Seinfeld nut, as previously mentioned (many times). I think the reason I love the coffee shop scenes so much is that it makes me desire a cup of coffee and toast. They just make it look good. And inevitably, if I watch Elaine eat a big salad, I must go make one. Cucumbers on the salad, (even bringing in an 'outside' cucumber)make me go all the way to the store for just a cucumber.

No matter what I make, it's just not as good as if I eat it at a restaurant or if someone else prepares it.

Lately, I've come to realize that Jon's pillow is just better than mine. It is cold and crisp, one nice pillow. Mine are flat and numerous. Granted, this is because I am a stomach sleeper and he is a back sleeper, but still, I covet his pillow. If I get to bed first, I snatch it.

He snatcheth back.

This past week, he has been giving me his pillow. Here, take it, you'll sleep better. It's good that way.

But it's just no good this way.

If it's mine, it's like I made the big salad myself.

It just doesn't work.

Now what to do?

This week I spent lots of time scrubbing down things with little alcohol pads away from home. And it was nice, it was fun. I enjoyed my little 1" alcohol prep pads and I enjoyed making dirty things clean. Have I once swabbed down my home with 1" pads, whistling while I worked? Uh, no.

But how many times have I done the dishes at someone else's home and had a blast doing it? Folded someone else's laundry or scubbed their toilets? It happens and it's actually fun.

This must be simply a case of the grass being greener or something...