A story about a girl and a sandwich...

Okay, let's all acknowledge right now that most of my stories are going to revolve around food.
(See here)
And that I definitely googled how to spell sandwich
(I got it right the first time)
But these are just little side tracks.
The purpose of this post is about a girl and a sandwich.
Not just any sandwich! 
A life changing sandwich.
Really, we have to start at the very beginning.
And explain that I basically have two sets of parents : 
1. Biological awesome parents that let me live with them
2. Not biological awesome parents that let me spend all my waking hours at their house

Okay, here it goes...

Once upon a time, Parents #1 decided to be super amazing and took the fambam to Europe.
Not this Europe. This Europe.
Basically as soon as I was off the plane at Heathrow Airport, I was in love. With England.
Head over heels. Butterflies. Skipping & dancing & singing.
I-could-have-been-in-a-musical-due-to-my-performance kind of thing.
(Is it weird to be in love with a country? Probably...)
We spent a beautiful 3 days in London and that's when I first saw it....
Pret.
This store was everywhere! 
What was it? Why weren't we going there? Why are people so smiley when they walk out?
I felt like it was this huge secret we silly Americans weren't let in on.
So, on our very last day in London before we got on the train for Paris, we went to Pret.
Like, inside.
Guess what this mystery store held?
SANDWICHES. That's all!
Needless to say, I was disappointed. 
But we were there, and we were hungry, so we all chose a sandwich and left for the station.
It was at the station that I took my first bite.
And I thought I would die. Of amazing.
It was the best sandwich I had ever eaten in my life.
And I knew at that moment that I could never eat a Subway ever again.
(Dramatic, I know, but its true.)
And then I started to cry. In the middle of Terminal 5e at King's Cross. Eating a sandwich.
Because I realized that there was a very high chance I would never eat at Pret again.
(And a large portion of this breakdown was probably due to jetlag and the whirl wind romance I had with England that was coming to a close... but it was triggered by this sandwich)
The rest of the trip was great.
And I fell in love with crepes and real french fries and Chocolat Chaud.
Luckily, these foods didn't cause a meltdown in a public place.
Soon we were back at the airport, heading for home.
We had a slight layover in Heathrow, so we decided to look around the terminal a bit.
And right smack in the middle of it was.... Pret.
So I teared up again because I realized I could have another sandwich.
Stupid, right?
(You wouldn't think so if you had one...)
For a lovely hour and a half I munched away on a jalapeno chicken wrap 
and wrote postcards to my friends.
It was bliss.

Skip a year ahead and we're back in present day.

Daddy #2 (see explanation above) went to London for a business trip
.....And brought me back a jalapeno chicken wrap. From Pret.
Definitely cried a third time. 
Then split the wrap with my Mum #1 (who also teared up)
And settled in for a long night of Grey's Anatomy & food comas.
Bliss.