Only the best for Mother

My mom's birthday was Monday.  Hi Mom!  She doesn't actually read the blog.

Anyways, that's important, but only important in a little bit.  Friday Samil came home from work around 7:20pm.  I can say that with a good deal of accuracy because he was kicked out of the building at 7pm and it takes about 20 minutes to get home.  Samil was very upset.  He was upset because grades were due on Friday and the kicked him out before he was able to finish start inputting them.  This was clearly not his fault because well, he started working on determining his grades at 3pm.   He finally finished grading all his final second marking period assignments and calculating marking period grades at 7pm when the security guard told him "Hey, its Friday, asshole.  Its 7pm.  You need to go home because I want to have a life and I can't if I'm sitting here babysitting you in this building.  Why are you even still here, anyway?  It is Friday, you know."  (that's at least what I imagine the security guard saying.)

Samil was not totally receptive to my point that hey... they were due on Friday, maybe um... you shouldn't have started work on them on... Friday... after school ended.  It was, obviously, the fault of his boss, since she scheduled professional development on Friday.  I doubt she understood Samil's work schedule, and gosh darnit, that's why he can't do a good job.

Sunday, my mother came for a birthday lunch.  She recommended a Mexican place near Samil's old apartment, which while not being all that far away from our current digs, would mean we'd be driving past about 50 other amazing restaurants so I suggested a Mexican place closer.  After giving Mom the tour of the apartment, I told Samil what was going on and mentioned her suggestion which caused a very elaborate conversation about Thai food.  He thought we should not only drop the idea of eating Mexican, but drive all the way to his old apartment and eat at a... get this... take out Thai place.  Only the best for Mother, of course.  After being as cordial as possible towards his suggestion we made our merry way to the close Mexican restaurant.

On returning, I brought back a menu from the establishment, which Samil found to be an invitation to read aloud the various foods they sold.  Samil was very impressed with the menu.  He thought the prices, which were on the slightly higher side for a few school teachers, to be particularly fascinating, and he recited those a few times for each dish.  He also, for some reason, was very interested in a single dish: the Fish Tacos.  I need to stress that this interest was not ironic in any way.  He was actually delighted that they offered the entree.  Now, I don't hold anything against a person who enjoys a good fish taco, but Samil doesn't.  Samil is a vegetarian, and not the type that says they're vegetarian but still eats fish.  So every time he mentioned the Fish Tacos, which he kept coming back to when looking over the menu, I became more confused.

You would think that moments like this would become less surprising for me after living with Samil for 5 months.  But, I'm not.  My only fear is that maybe he's getting more Samil-like.