My Fried Egg Sandwich

I called my sister earlier. I didn't have anything to say, but that didn't stop us from sitting on the phone for an hour, talking about what we were looking at on the internet, occasionally conversing, and saying goodbye, but never hanging up.
I told her, "I made a fried egg sandwich for lunch, so I thought of you."
Shocked by the coincidence, she replied, "Oh my gosh! I made spaghetti last night, and I thought of you!"

My sister is one of my closest friends, even though we were cutthroat enemies as young children. She doesn't cope well at all with having to share attention, and I don't cope well with someone telling me what to do. So it was hard to balance, since I'm a natural show-stealler and she is natural leader.

My sister has been keeping the family in order since she was a toddler. Her greatest skill is being able to talk. She can talk like no one is listening, meaning she says whats on her mind without worrying how it will be received. She is so good at talking, and unfazed with meeting new people, that she has been offered a job after every interview she's done. Because of this she has managed to always work a couple jobs, and has a hard time understanding how people can't find work.
She once told me about a job interview she went for, and after chatting with the lady for over an hour, the lady asked her, "Whats something people don't really know about you?"
And my sister said, "I'm actually really shy."
This is especially hard for anyone to believe who knows her well, since she has always been the best person to go out on the town with, as she amasses a following of people who are completely mesmerized by her loud and hysterical presence.

Three years ago I went to Philly to spend my birthday weekend. The last day we stood in line at a deli, and she opened her chips and carried on a one-way conversation at full volume while popping chips in her mouth. My overly receptive reaction was to tell her not to talk with her mouth full of food, or to lower her volume since everyone was looking at her, but it was the last time I'd see her for a year, so I really enjoyed watching her overtake the entire room, and not really giving two fucks if people thought she was a loud mouth who talks with her mouth full. The older man slicing the meat was looking at her with mild entertainment, grinning at her own lack of concern, and it was a moment of true admiration. To just be yourself.

When I eat a fried egg sandwich it makes me think of her because she loves to tell me about how delicious fried egg sandwiches are, and how her love of this food makes her family goes through eggs and bread faster than most. She now associates me with spaghetti after my kids and I went through a routine of spaghetti Monday, which had the added benefit of spaghetti Tuesday. But my kids, who never like to get on board with convenience, stopped eating spaghetti and told me it is disgusting and tastes like dirt. I need to get more creative with our dinners, but I don't really feel like thinking about it. I know just the person to tell me what to do.