My train of thought when I’m hungry:

“I’m hungry.”

1. Opens fridge.
2. Scans its contents.
3. Creates a menu in her mind for dinner, consisting of a protein and an appropriate side dish.
4. Makes sure there is enough to feed herself, her husband and their son.
5. Commences to cooking.
6. Commences to serving her husband, her son and herself.
7. Commences to eating.
8. Commences to cleaning up while having an imaginary argument with her husband because he is not helping to clean.

The end.

My husband’s train of thought when he is hungry.

“I’m hungry.”

1. Drops xbox controller to the floor and leaves the living room.
2. Enters the kitchen, and scans his surroundings for the nearest edible item (probably a box of taco shells).
3. Grasps box and tears into box from the side like a raccoon, not even bothering to open it properly like someone who isn’t a caveman.
4. Stands there eating taco shells until he no longer feels the annoying pangs of hunger.
5. Drops box where he stands
6. Does an about-face and exits the kitchen.
7. Re-enters living room and resumes playing with his xbox, never once having considered his pregnant wife’s or his son’s hunger (we might’ve wanted some raw taco shells for dinner, too.)

The end.

My son’s train of thought when he is hungry.

“I’m hungry.” (I don’t think this is literally what he says to himself, since he doesn’t entirely speak English yet.)

1. Drops whatever household item he is destroying.
2. Adorably waddles into the kitchen.
3. Happens upon the box of taco shells earlier discarded by his father.
4. Picks up where his father left off, finishing off the contents of the box like a smaller, cuter raccoon.
5. Vomits.

The end.