An Ode To My Wife

 Frequent readers of this blog might recognize "Super Pollo 2", a local restaurant with a dubious idea for a mascot (a chicken wearing a superhero cape that is serving, presumably, other chickens). I pass by this place several dozen times a week while doing the rideshare hustle, and the sign has kind of taunted me, enough to develop a back story of its rivalry with Super Pollo 1 (a half dozen blocks away), the McDonald's Land style skits ending in the death of other chickens by Our Hero, and my daydreams of staging lucha libre fights between chickens on the sidewalk in front of the place. It has created literally dozens of text chains in my family's group chat, and more eyerolls from the kids than probably anything else I've ever texted about.

What it hadn't produced, in all of that time, was a visit. Which is where my wife comes in.

She's currently taking chemo in the first few months of treating breast cancer. Which means the usual side effects, both mental and physical. She's been predictably great through all of it, proactive about what's happening, and refusing to give up the stuff she loves (harp gigs, relative fiscal solvency through part time work on top of that). But the fight is a personal one, and my hours tend to be all over the board, so last night she asked for a lunch date.

And when I suggested Super Pollo 2, she was game.

The meal was reasonable -- slow service, Chick Fil-A level quality only without the lines or grim corporate overtones. The experience was, alas, not worthy of my comedic backstory, and we were probably the only people speaking English in the place. We may or may not go back. It's just OK and my predilection is almost always towards the New, not the Known.

But the company, and the knowledge that having this experience would have been completely impossible without her? Priceless. And that goes way beyond actually walking into the place. She's my best friend, fondest audience, and has been for (checks watch) 27 years and counting.

And next week, when I come out with something sillier and stupider to amuse her? 

She'll be down with that, too.

May you all be so blessed to spend your life with someone else who gets you half as much as she does me...