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Guaranteed Human.

Am I the A-Hole for being mad at my boyfriend for not taking these nudies the way I like. Or is it noodles? Noodles. Oh, it's noodles. These noodles. You're not making noodles the way I like. Are we sure? It's noodles. Yeah, it's noodles. It's noodles. It's literally noodles. I thought it was like a code for nudes. No, noodles.

No, it's noodles.

Okay.

Am I the asshole?

For being my,

being mad at my boyfriend for not making the right noodles?

I thought it was like, oh, dude, like this, this angle ain't good. No, it's like, oh, the consistency of these noodles is, it's not great.

I want to see your face.

Okay, this sounds dumb, but hear me out. I've always been a picky eater, especially when it comes to

tomatoes. That is very specific. Ever since I was a kid, my dad would make my spaghetti different

from the rest of the house. I like having an essence of the sauce flavor on the noodles,

but not the overpowering flavor of having noodles bathed in sauce. So here's where it

gets a bit odd. My dad would separate my spaghetti from the families after putting the sauce on and then

would rinse the sauce off with the sink strainer. I love noodles like this as it is nice,

subtle tomato vibe given to the mild spaghetti. Wow. My 20, boyfriend 26, has known about this

since we started first dating. He always told me my food habits were cute. We've been dating

for almost three years now and moved in together at the beginning of the pandemic, so we could

be in lockdown together. Ever since we moved in together, he insisted on taking charge of cooking

and all cooking-related

tasks, dishes, grocery, shopping, et cetera. And he assigned me the role of cleaning the bulk

...