With tomatoes, red onion, cucumbers, yellow peppers and cilantro.
I looked up from my laptop. “Sometimes I really hate Facebook.”
“Expressing their undying love for one another?”
“I wish that was it,” I said, spinning my laptop around and pointing at my Newsfeed. “Another couple, going at it with passive-aggressive status updates.”
Roo glanced at the screen. “They know people can see this, right?”
“Maybe that’s it? Maybe they’re looking for some kind of justification from friends? Although…” I paused, turning the laptop back around, “I don’t think anyone in their right mind would comment on this.”
“It could be worse.”
“Your mom could have finally decided to join Facebook.”
I sighed. “For once I’m thankful my mother is self-proclaimed luddite.” I said, closing my laptop. “I just don’t understand why couples use Facebook to communicate. Whatever happened to talking?”
Roo shrugged his shoulders and picked up his iPad. “What’s for lunch?”
“None of your business,” I joked, as I uncrossed my legs and stretched my arms over my head. I stood up and walked towards the kitchen, mentally going through what we had in the fridge and the cupboard.
I crouched in front of the crisper drawer, pulling out peppers and cilantro when I heard my iPhone vibrate on the kitchen table. “Who’s calling me on a Sunday?” I wondered out loud, picking it up to see Facebook: Roo mentioned you in a comment just before the screen turned off. “You wrote on my Facebook wall?” I asked, and unlocked my phone to look at my profile page.
You know what I hate? Not knowing what’s for lunch. – with Lys. Roo wrote.
I laughed and typed back, It’s quinoa salad. Asshole.