Snickers Satisfies - in any language

Last Monday as Andi and I waited for the doctor to get out of surgery and review all of her tests we sat in a small side room - getting hungrier and hungrier. After about hour 2 of waiting, it became a contest of sorts on who was the hungriest inbetween looking at the same magazines we have looked at for months.

I sat there for so long that I had time to read magazines covering practically the entire life span of a woman from conception to post menopausal. At about the 3 hour mark - and here I must tell you I have NEVER waited three hours for a doctor, but this was different - I happened to mention, "oh man, I wish I had a Snickers bar in my purse."

It was at that moment that Andi started jumping around and going "oh! oh! oh!" and I thought it was a moot point on whether or not she would be induced. Instead of being in labor she says, "I have a candy bar in my purse!" Now mind you, not just any candy bar, but she had been hoarding a candy bar large enough to feed the crew of the SS Minnow for a week.

I tried to remain calm as she broke open the life sustaining chocolate thinking that we had probably averaged 2 comments a minute on how hungry we were over the last 3 hours - which is a lot of thinking about food. But I knew she was extremely hormonal, distracted and she actually possessed the food, so I just smiled at her and kept my thoughts to myself.

After a bit more of a wait, we were told to go get some dinner and they would come find us if the doctor came in. So after grabbing a sandwich I went to the vending machine where I bought my own Snickers bar in case the night turned into a repeat of our afternoon.

As I sat down at the table, I held up the candy bar triumphantly, confident in my ability to provide for my own needs should the hunger pangs hit again and I proclaimed, "now I'm ready for anything."

Andi looks at my prized candy bar and says, "why do we have Mexican candy bars in the vending machine?" I asked her what she meant and she points to my wrapper -- and waits for my reply.

I look at the wrapper - look at her - at the wrapper - at her and see that she is totally serious while at the same time, totally clueless. I pause, smile at her ever so sweetly and say in my best "bless your heart" voice, "Andi, honey, that says satisfies."

If I had her look on video, I would be $10,000 richer. As the realization dawned, she burst out laughing. I started laughing and soon we were both literally crying, tears rolling down our cheeks, while everyone in the cafeteria sat around and looked at us like we were idiots. In reality - only one of us was.... if you don't count super glue episodes.

And she sat there, doubled over, trying not to pee on herself, repeating over and over, "Sa-tis-Fee-ez".... with a Mexican accent.