this story was a long time in coming

It is a truth universally acknowledged that when Husband is sick, he wants to be left alone. No affectionate coos from his wife. No preparing of cold compresses. No soup on a tray. LEFT. ALONE.

It took me a while to get used to this, but eventually I came around. I now leave him completely alone when he's sick, hoping to minimize the Husbandly crankiness.

Given this history, you can imagine my amusement upon experiencing the following.

About a month ago, Husband was sickly for several days, which meant I spent several days tiptoeing around the apartment trying to make myself scarce. On the tail end of the sickness, he was languishing on the couch in the late afternoon and asked (for the first time in several days) what was for dinner.

"Well, I bought stuff for shrimp scampi, but I always keep an emergency can of chicken soup, so I'll heat that up for you."

"I hate soup from a can."

[Blank stare, which barely conceals my internal monologue of "well you're out of luck, then, huh?" I've never been skilled at hiding my feelings.]

"Will you make me chicken and wild rice soup?"

"Ummm, I don't really have the stuff for it."

[Insert pathetic, I-never-ask-you-for-anything sick face here.]

"I guess I can go to the store."

So, off to the store I went to buy the makings of chicken and wild rice soup. On the way, I called Motha! with an exasperated "I just want you to know I'm loving my Husband right now!". [To which her reply, understandably, was "right now?"]

The soup was made, Husband was a happy little recovering man, and all was right in the Hobbit Hole.

The next day, Husband was again languishing on the aforementioned couch, from whence he asked, "what's for dinner?"

"Mexican."

"Breakfast for dinner?"

"You must not have heard me. Mexican."

"Breakfast for dinner?"

[Sigh.] "Well, I have stuff for eggs and toast, so breakfast for dinner would work, too."

"Biscuits?"

"Babe, I don't have biscuits. I have toast."

"BISCUITS?!"

So would you believe that for the second day in a row, I hauled myself to the grocery store, this time TO BUY BISCUITS.

Thankfully, once I told this story to all our friends at church, I was rewarded by their insistence on henceforth calling him Sir Biscuits.