Friday Fictioneers — S’mores

C7D45327-3A10-49E4-9AE0-DD70D9138E49“The campfire’s ready, kids,” their father said. “Grab a skewer. We’re gonna make s’mores!”

“What are s’mores?” his youngest asked.

“You’ll love them,” he answered. “You put a marshmallow on the end of the skewer and hold it over the fire until it’s golden brown. Then put it on top of a graham cracker and a piece of chocolate. You place the other graham cracker on top, like a sandwich.” Turning to his son, he said, “Jimmy, grab the bag with the marshmallows, chocolate, and graham crackers I asked you to put in the car.”

“Sorry, Dad. I forgot it.”

(100 words)


Written for this week’s Friday Fictioneers prompt from Rochelle Wisoff-Fields. Photo credit: Anshu Bhojnagarwala.

Random Thought

A3FF1DD4-BE3D-49EC-9374-0600A6B3D214My wife asked me today what I wanted for lunch. I said, “Don’t worry about it. I’ll fix myself a tuna fish sandwich.” And when I heard myself say that, I wondered why I always say “tuna fish sandwich” and not just “tuna sandwich.”

I can’t think of any other variety of fish where, when you refer to it, you add the word “fish” after the name of the fish. Well, yes, there’s swordfish and catfish, but that’s because the names of those fish include the word “fish.” But tuna doesn’t.

Think of any other fish we catch and eat. Salmon, trout, cod, perch, bass, mackerel, sardines, mahi mahi, herring, flounder, sole, snapper, grouper, tilapia, halibut. You just don’t add the word “fish” when you talk about any of those, do you?

Maybe it’s just me. Maybe I’m the only one who says “tuna fish” and not just “tuna.”

Help me out here. Do any of you say “tuna fish” if you’re talking about a sandwich made with that fish? Or do you simply ask for a “tuna sandwich”?

Standard Sub

Henry was watching the guy at Subway prepare his sandwich, a foot-long Italian BMT.

Henry was very particular about the way his sub sandwiches ought to be constructed. He watched carefully as his was being prepared. “More lettuce,” Henry demanded. “More olives, too.”

The sandwich maker glanced up at Henry but continued to work on the sub. When he had finished making the sandwich and was about to wrap it up, Henry told him to stop. Henry looked at the prepared sandwich and frowned. “This sub is substandard,” Henry said. “It’s definitely sub-par.”

“I’m sorry, sir,” the guy replied, “but this is our standard sub. I made it the standard way, but with extra lettuce and olives, as you requested.”

“Substandard!” Henry said in a very loud voice.

“Standard sub!” the guy behind the counter responded, in an equally loud voice.

“Who’s in charge here?” Henry demanded. “Where’s your supervisor?”

As if on queue, the supervisor emerged from the back of the store. He walked around to the front of the counter and confronted Henry. “My subordinate should not be subjected to such sub-optimal behavior from you. I submit to you, sir, that your sub sandwich meets all the standards of our sandwich shop. You must immediate cease this subjugation of my subordinate or I will require you to leave this Subway.

Henry hungrily eyed the sub sandwich. He was starving and, in a gesture of submission, he said, “Fine, I’ll take your substandard Subway sub sandwich.”

“It’s not substandard,” yelled the guy who had made the sandwich. “It’s a standard sub!”


This admittedly sub-par post was written for today’s one-word prompt, “substandard.”