Awakened peckish at dawn, I was surprised to crave Tex-Mex food even if I haven’t tried it. My Mexican and Texan new roommates heard me muttering to myself in the hallway to the kitchen.
“We have two burritos left.” I presumed they offered.
“Can I have you?” I asininely asked.
They raised their eyebrows in confusion.
“Can I have two?” I rectified my greedy self.
They switched raising the other eyebrow.
“I want your burrito.”
They chorused, “Only if we can eat your pink taco.”
I agreed, contemplating whose burrito to try first: the Texan’s, the Mexican’s, or both simultaneously.
