Eating

I was a bit grumpy the other day. Inventing arguments in my head, pouting at every suggestion my husband made, but not coming up with anything brilliant my self. Or even trying. But it came back to haunt me.

Kevin had splurged a bit on himself, having spent a tidy sum at the wine bar with some work buddies. For three hours. As we have more than a few "purchase goals," I wasn't very impressed. But he was so sweet and wonderful with his apology that I couldn't stay mad. But I could stay grumpy. And did. The next day, we talked about running some errands and having some fun.

"I'm going to get coffee with my gift certificate, but you went out yesterday."
"That's fine, we have coffee at home."

"You should eat before we go out because I don't want to buy lunch, because you went out yesterday."
"That's fine, I'm happy to eat at home."

And so on.

So we are wandering IKEA, looking at shelving units for our living room. We are talking about seeing a movie at 2:30. Underworld:Evolution. Kevin's choice, but as there isn't anything playing that gets me hot and bothered, it works fine. It's 1:00. We won't be going home before the movie. And a problem arises.

I'm hungry. And I NEED to eat. Not just, "Oh, I'm feeling a little peckish." But, "Feed me NOW." And yes, we both had meals before leaving the house at 11:30.

So I turn to my husband in the lighting section. He smiles and wraps his arms around me.

"Baby, I've got a problem."

He looks at me. Smiles. "Does this have anything to do with your problems this morning?"

Sheepish, "yes."

"Would you like to get somthing to eat?"

"yes."

So we shared a nice lunch of Swedish meatballs at IKEA. And all was well.