In Which I Admit To Being A Hobbit

  This happened Sunday.


ME: Soooo…dinner’s ready.


KEALOHA: It’s 4 o’clock.


ME: I know. I’m just saying. It’s ready. For…you know…whenever we want to eat. Like later. Or now. If we’re hungry we could just eat…now.




ME: Can we really eat now because I’m starving.




We sit down to the chicken tikka masala even though it’s only 4PM and not even grandmothers and churchgoers eat at 4PM. They wait until at least 5.


ME: You’re aware that we’ll be eating again in three hours.


KEALOHA: I’m okay with that.


ME: Check Hobbits online. They eat, like, all day long.


Kealhoa talks to Suri.


KEALOHA: How many times do Hobbits eat?

SURI: Let me find out for you How Many Times Do Hobbits Eat.


We wait and then find a webpage.


KEALOHA: Hobbits eat seven times a day. Breakfast, Second Breakfast, Elevensees, Lunch, Afternoon Tea, Supper, Dinner.


ME: That explains it. This is Supper. Dinner is later. I always knew I was a Hobbit.


KEALOHA: You’re not a Hobbit.


ME: I’m short. I eat all day long. And I have hairy feet.


KEALOHA: I’ve seen your feet. Your feet are fine. There’s not one single hair on your feet.


ME: That’s because I shave them.


Pause. Pause. Pause. Sound of awkward eating.


KEALOHA: I wish I didn’t know that.


ME: Well, now you do. And you married me so you’re stuck with a Hobbit wife. Happy anniversary.