The Dinner Dilemma

I am looking at my clock and see that it's almost time to make the decision that makes all other decisions look ridiculously easy and have the conversation that I've been having every night for the past few years...

Me: "I'm hungry. Are you hungry?"

Hubby: "Yeah...what do you want to eat?"

Me: "I don't know...what are you thinking?"

Hubby: "Whatever you want."

Me: "But I don't KNOW what I want!"

Hubby: "Well, I don't care. Kel, you know I'll eat whatever. It really doesn't matter that much."

Me: "Well I guess I'll just have soup." (The same soup that I eat pretty much every day because I'm strange and get into weird eating habits that include eating the same things for months on end until I finally get so disgusted with it that I won't eat it for years after. Currently, I'm on Progresso Slow Cooked Beef & Vegetables.)

Hubby: Makes a sighing sound that he swears he doesn't make but gets me infuriated because I KNOW that he's making it.

And on and on and on. Some couples fight about whether or not the toilet seat is up or down. Some couples fight about who is the better driver. Hubby and I? We fight about what we're going to eat. The thing is this: my metabolism basically went on hiatus as soon as I hit 24, but hubby's is still chugging along pretty swiftly considering the amount of absolute crap he ingests on a daily basis. I'm talking about BK, McDonalds crap. He really could have been on that documentary that showed how to lose weight when you're on a strict Mickey D's diet. I try not to hold a grudge.

Anywho, the dinner hour is coming quickly and I am going to try and stand my ground tonight because as soon as I walk in the door it's going to start. I can count on that like I can count on the fact that Chad will have at least two cheeseburgers this week.

It's a given.