Ahoy bentolings!

Tonight I'm going to discuss the pitfalls of a bento hobby. All over the internet you will see sites praising the magical bento and all it's many pleasures and surprises. I'm here to talk about the dark side of bento making. This is the side I'm just now starting to see through the cute nori faces and endless bowls of steamed rice.

It started as I drove home from a very long, exhausting day of work. I usually try and plan out what I want to do in my precious evening hours on the way back. My soul spent, all I could really process was how cute all the little lambs are in the fields across the mountain road. I did come to one conclusion though... I wasn't going to bento tonight. Too tired, really can't be bothered.

I get home and start tidying and begin to prepare dinner. An hour later, we eat and watch an episode of Smallville (we're watching the entire series start to finish as I've not seen it. On season 5 now). I still am adamant I won't be making bentos tonight. My brain is sore.

I figured however, I could at least put together some sandwiches for snow and myself to have for lunch tomorrow. I'd rather control what I'm eating and not have the need to go to a store and get something icky if I can help it. So, I lope to the kitchen and get out some bread. Next thing I know, I've got the paper grass out and I'm curling carrot slices and goddammit I ended up with this...

This... THIS IS WHAT ME MAKING A SANDWICH LOOKS LIKE NOW! >_<

I wasn't even going to put hearts on or anything and then the bento devil on my shoulder whispers into my ear... "what if snow worries he doesn't have hearts on his lunch? You can't have that now can you? You better fetch the cheese quick, fast, in a hurry if you know what's good for you!"

I couldn't help myself. I think I'm doomed.

*sigh*