I came home tonight and Esteban was listening to the banjo song from Deliverance.
“This is the song from Deliverance!” I said, walking into the house, looking cute, but not as cute as yesterday.
“Yeah?” Esteban countered. “It’s just music.”
“I know, but there’s something singularly disturbing about walking into the house and finding your husband listening to the dueling banjos from Deliverance.”
“What do you want for dinner tonight?” Esteban said, looking into the pantry, which I had spent disjointed sessions organizing last night.
“I want you to not make me squeal like a little pig.”
“What?” Esteban said. He has not seen Deliverance and is, in general, a pop culture black hole.
“Nothing. Nevermind.”
“Apparently, we should have SOUP!” He said, looking at what I knew was an entire gaggle of Campbell’s soup cans in our pantry.
“I organized them last night. They now have their own shelf. I like it. Doesn’t it make you happy?” I asked.
“Why?” He responded, incredulously.
“Because….. because…. LOOK AT ALL THAT SOUP!!!!” I said. Then burst into hysterical laughter.
When I opened my eyes and tried to catch my breath, Esteban had come in to watch my spell.
“I hope you pass out…. freak.” He said.
Meanwhile, the finale chords of the banjo duel played out.
