Friday, October 24, 2008

Why I Got (and Stay) Married

Dan (hubby) came home last night from a week-long business trip and it is a darn good thing too since I was sitting in bed this morning ritualistically eating my bite-sized shredded wheat dipped in peanut butter when I took a swing of my Trader Joes Orange and Bergamot Unsweetened Green Tea (my favorite) and thought "Oh, that just doesn't taste quite right, hummmm." I continued eating and took another swig. I could faintly sense some primeval instinct knocking on my skull, urging me to "PUT DOWN TEA! RUN! TELL THE OTHERS IN VILLAGE 'BAD WATERS FLOW FROM SLENDER GREEN BOTTLE!'" but the kitchen is a long way away, my bed was so cozy, and the cat was strategically balanced on my feet for maximum warmth distribution. I was just about to take another big sip to strip away the peanut butter coating on my tongue the when Dan walked in. I handed him the glass, "Hey, try this and tell me what you think." "New kind of tea?" he asked as he lifted the glass to his mouth. I really don't remember nodding. He took one sip and nearly spewed it across the room. "Do you think it's little off?" I asked in my flutey, bird-like voice. "It's horrible! It's rotten! Don't drink it!" he said, his face contorted in a Steven Seagal-I-just-found-my-woman-with-another-man-look of disbelief. He stared at me and I could tell he was shocked by his perceived ineffectiveness of my taste buds. (My taste buds are fine! They are better than fine! It was the Peanut Butter Effect!)

Now, I think it is a tribute to our relationship that, while I ignored the instinctual primeval voice inside my head, I paid heed to my man's authoritative tone and stopped drinking the tea. Trust and Obey, Ladies. OK, it was his tone and the fact that he took the glass out of the room, holding it far out in front of him like it was a container of plutonium.

I'm glad he's home. I am sure he is too.

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