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themeletor*It's 5:30ish. Da, Pidge, Vivs and I have just gotten in the door after doctor's and dentist's appointments all afternoon*
Da (to me): We're hungry. I'm gonna get takeout.
Me: Fine. Wouldn't have taken me that long to make something...
Him: Yeah but we're hungry.
Me: Ok. If you want to use my discount card you can; there are some great deals.
Him: I don't want to drive all the way to Brookfield.
Me: Five extra minutes?
Him: I'm not going to drive all the way to Brookfield!
[Argument ensues, in which I hold firm that the savings from the card would outweigh any small inconvenience, am proved right, and he still won't drive to Brookfield. I sit down and go back to typing. 3-5 minutes pass]
Him: We're leaving for Cousin's. Would you like something?
...
*faceplant*
no, I just cook and clean here. my meals I find in the dumpster out back.
{Epilogue:
I tell him that whatever he wants to do is fine, and if he wants to get me a sub that turkey with mayonnaise is fine (because I'm the only one in our house who likes mayonnaise so I have to specify). He comes home with a chicken sub -- I think 'okay, easy mix-up' -- and tells me he's leaving it on the table. It's warm. Know what it is? Chicken (as in grilled), and mayonnaise.}
...Yep.
BTB: Wasn't there some doll-person in a Robin Williams movie who ate that? Toys, perhaps?
Da (to me): We're hungry. I'm gonna get takeout.
Me: Fine. Wouldn't have taken me that long to make something...
Him: Yeah but we're hungry.
Me: Ok. If you want to use my discount card you can; there are some great deals.
Him: I don't want to drive all the way to Brookfield.
Me: Five extra minutes?
Him: I'm not going to drive all the way to Brookfield!
[Argument ensues, in which I hold firm that the savings from the card would outweigh any small inconvenience, am proved right, and he still won't drive to Brookfield. I sit down and go back to typing. 3-5 minutes pass]
Him: We're leaving for Cousin's. Would you like something?
...
*faceplant*
no, I just cook and clean here. my meals I find in the dumpster out back.
{Epilogue:
I tell him that whatever he wants to do is fine, and if he wants to get me a sub that turkey with mayonnaise is fine (because I'm the only one in our house who likes mayonnaise so I have to specify). He comes home with a chicken sub -- I think 'okay, easy mix-up' -- and tells me he's leaving it on the table. It's warm. Know what it is? Chicken (as in grilled), and mayonnaise.}
...Yep.
BTB: Wasn't there some doll-person in a Robin Williams movie who ate that? Toys, perhaps?
