Him: Babe, Lemme borrow your phone.
Me: Why?
Him: I need to look something up, but I also gotta call someone.
Me: That’s why they allow you to use speaker and search through other applications, you dolt.
Him: Come on! Gimme!
Me: *Laborious sigh* Fine, here. Don’t close any of my applications.
Fifteen minutes later…
Him: *emerges, laughing hysterically* Bear…What the fuck?
Me: *Eating* What? Is Siri rebelling?
Him: Dude, have you been through your photos?
Me: *the look he calls the “insta-scowl”* Why were you looking through my photos?
Him: *Still laughing and thumbing through my phone* No…no…seriously…Food, my hand in front of food, food, grocery store, bee, bee, my hand with food, food, my hands plating food, antique, antique, antique, bees…more bees. bees…seascape…rainbow over seascape…child child child child food food my hands cutting food…*tilts and squints* f—-ood? Dog dog dog dog with ball dog dog in front of tv… child child child child eating grasshoppers… food food. Bees…another fucking bee…more pretty sunset shit…Oh Christ…What the fuck is that? Oh…food.
Me: Are you quite finished?
Him: *still thumbing* Bear…your entire 10,000 photos are all broken down into several categories: Food, me holding food, kids that aren’t yours, sunsets, projects, receipts, and bees.
Me: *sighs*
Him: If you ever lost your phone, and I found it, I’d be like, what even is this life?
Me: Food, your hands, receipts, projects, rainbows, dogs, kids that aren’t mine, and bees. Shut up.
Him: *bemusedly smiling* Your life is good.
Me: Back out and enter the autopsy photos gallery. It’s called “Food Porn”.