I love my husband. I’ll take a bullet for him. I’ll spend my weekends washing his dirty socks. I’ll even stay up late watching ESPN with him. But I cannot, will not, under no circumstances share my Coca Cola with him. And this is how the fight began…..
At his request I brought lunch home for the family after a full morning at the hair salon . I got my hair colored a beautiful, golden brown. It is truly fabulous…but I digress. As we sat down to eat Mr. Incredible mentioned that there were three, I repeat, three cans of Coke left in the fridge. He got one and brought one over to me, which, for all you math geniuses leaves only one can left, right? Right.
We finished lunch and carried on with our normal weekend routine: naps, watching TV, napping some more, playing the Wii, yelling at the kids, napping even more.
Later that night…well, really early the next morning as we flipped the channels between Saturday Night Live and Inside the NBA post game show I mosied over to the microwave and popped my leftover lunch in it. As I turned to the refridgerator to get a Coke to drink with my late night snack Mr. Incredible, as if reading my mind, asked me to bring him a Coke… then it us. There was only one left.
Without allowing me time to tell him he couldn’t have it, he asked (in a defeated tone) “Can we share it?” Immediately, without thinking I shouted “NO!”.
I hurt his feelings. He was disappointed. AND I DID NOT CARE!!!!!
I love my husband. I vowed to stay with him for better or worse, richer or poorer, blah, blah, blah. But that minister said NOTHING, absolutely nothing about sharing the very last can of Coke.