So last night my Sweetie gets home before me. We usually carpool, but not yesterday. He had a dentist appointment first thing in the morning, so he drove himself to work. So anyway, he got home before me. With this in mind, I thought he could handle dinner. Steak. Potato. Salad. So I called him and asked if he would mind cooking. His response, "Why did you have to ruin my surprise?"
While I have the ability to dream about babies, I do not dream about food. (I daydream about food, but that's not the same thing.) And since my crystal ball wasn't working, how was I supposed to KNOW what he had in mind?
So anyway, we get into this stupid. stupid. stupid. fight. I hang up, but call back a few minutes later because I am still fuming. I can't believe he's mad at me for ruining his surprise. How was I supposed to KNOW?
So less than two minutes after the second phone call, I hear a radio ad for National Men Make Dinner Day. No joke! Apparently the first Thursday of every November is reserved for such a special event. I'll be sure to remember that next year, and the year after that, etc. Anyway, here is the website...
So I call him for a third time and tell him about the radio ad. He chuckled. I forgave him.
No comments:
Post a Comment