When someone calls you names—own it!

You might have heard that some people on the Interwebs have called E the “Internet’s Worst Boyfriend” because they’re under the impression he’s forcing me to make these 300 sammies to earn my engagement ring. They think he sits around the house with one hand in his pants, and the other snapping his fingers yelling, “Woman, get me a ham and cheese! And don’t forget the mustard!”

Not so much.

Those people clearly don’t read this blog to know how much I brag about E’s cooking, or him taking out the trash and cleaning the house and changing light bulbs. Plus, this is a voluntary project. And I eat the sandwiches, too.

Instead of getting annoyed, E has co-opted the moniker of Internet’s Worst Boyfriend, and made it his personal brand. “It’s mine now. I’m owning it. I’m thinking of sending the haters a Christmas card … or a ‘thank you’ note at the very least!”

Last night, he made me a beautiful dinner—lamb with a parsley citrus dressing, roasted tomato, and lentils. He proudly posted photos on Twitter, showing what sort of things the Internet’s Worst Boyfriend does for his unfortunate girlfriend.

Oh, the Internet’s Worst Boyfriend also cooked breakfast this morning. What a horrible, horrible man.

I wanted to make lunch for us since he’d fed me twice in 24 hours. We’re trying to eat healthy during the week, being that we have quite a few holiday parties coming up and a wedding next weekend in Florida (can’t be all bloated from Christmas cookies and cocktails on the beach!). Greek salad had all of the veggies I liked, including olives and sliced tomatoes, both on the list of E’s Forbidden Foods. I omitted olives, but I asked E if including a few small raw tomatoes in his sandwich was going to be a problem. “I’ll make an exception, since they’re small,” he said.

He’s getting less and less despicable every day.

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