Seasoned Fries

It’s sometimes amazing what kinds of things can bring about uninvited memories. I’ve been doing an amazing job of not thinking about my ex-husband. Until tonight. I have to go back a bit to explain this one.

Once we were married and living together, he decided he wanted to be healthier. Knowing this, I always made a healthy shopping list. We didn’t keep any junk food, soda, or overly sugary things in the house. I tried to make only homemade meals. Nothing from a box or the freezer (there were a few exceptions). I encouraged him to run every day like he wanted to. We went out a few times over the course of our marriage to buy him fancy new running shoes. Ones that have this spot for him to put some device in them, it links with his phone and tracks his stuff. He also bought a Nike Fuel band and a few running apps on his phone, like Zombie Run. Of course the AF had him doing PT, and we had our own special type of PT… Which kept both of us in shape. Being healthy was important to him.

BUT there was one thing we always bought that wasn’t really the healthiest. We always bought these 5 lb bags of seasoned french fries at Walmart. We loved these fucking fries. They had a specific taste, like if you blindfolded me and did a taste test, I could pick them out of the line up every. single. time.

Fast forward a few years. We had fries tonight with dinner. They looked oddly familiar. It wasn’t until I put them in my mouth that I was taken back to the house on base. I’ll never refer to it as our house. Always just the house on base. The most prominent memory of these particular fries being movie nights. Lights down, cuddles with our baby girl.

Stupid fries…..

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