Today I arrived home from work and loving wife was cooking chili mac for dinner. Why is this note worthy, you ask? Well, listen to the whole story . . .
Yesterday I came home a little early and seeing loving wife sitting on the couch reading her newspaper, I asked what was for dinner. She replied "chili mac" and I, being the patient and loving husband that I am, rolled my eyes and said, "You're kidding, right? I hate that." which I quickly followed with "Why don't we ever have spaghetti?"
Now that perfectly reasonable comment immediately sent her into the heights of marital bliss and what followed was a ten minute argument . . . err, I mean discussion, about the "hard to please" eating preferences of her loving husband and her loving sons and how, since it was impossible to find something we all liked, she had settled on something that was easy. My comment "What could be easier than spaghetti?" didn't help much, but I felt like it needed pointing out none the less.
The discussion was immediately followed by her saying that she was going to cook spaghetti instead of chili mac and her dropping the subject and heading into the kitchen. Now, I must confess that I didn't continue the argument . . . I mean discussion . . . because I was getting my spaghetti and I figured I was ahead on the deal.
But I was wrong of course because today we had chili mac.
Which brings me to another food story. A few months ago loving wife admitted to me that she had added about "gazillion" times the normal amount of Tabasco to my ketchup when we had boiled shrimp for dinner one time (I have to have ketchup and Tabasco with my boiled shrimp . . . is there any other way to eat it?). She had done this because we had had an argument . . . darn it, discussion . . . earlier in the day and she was getting me back for my . . . well, for me being me. The fact that I didn't even notice that the ketchup was hotter than usual only made her more upset, however, and now I live in fear of some other idea she may come up with to express her frustration with me being me.
My only hope is that this blog can be used as evidence in the trial even if they can't find my body . . .
After reading this post, loving wife reminds me that she had warned me about her chili mac dinner decision earlier in the day during a loving wife/loving husband phone call. What this has to do with the point of the story, I have no idea.