A sunny Saturday sandwich

Today we were making lunch together, trying as we could to do preparation and cleanup in parallel so that as we sat down to eat there would be nothing left to do in the kitchen. I grabbed the chips, she finished making the sandwiches. I went to put something on the Roku and, as I was walking back to the kitchen, she passed with a plate in each hand, smiling. Cute I thought. I put some things up, grabbed a drink, and went to join her. As I settled onto the couch and started to eat I noticed my sandwich was flimsy, light, a pile of cardboard boxes falling all over my plate. We both started laughing, and I realized I misread the smile a minute earlier. Then I stared at her. Everything was wrapped, put up, the tuna fork already washed. She sabotaged the parallelized process, created rework...and made me laugh more.