By Ginger Truitt
“Are you people actually arguing over a doughnut?” my teenage daughter inquired from the backseat.
“Yes, we are,” I replied. “And don’t call your parents ‘you people’.”
Hubby and I only argue about twice a month, unless his stubbornness is in overdrive. Then it could be as often as hourly until one of us cries, “Uncle!” He would say it is my stubborn will that causes the most arguments, but I steadfastly disagree.
When we do argue, it’s generally over some petty miscommunication. Take the doughnut issue for example. A few years ago, we spent the day at Indiana Beach. On the way home, I suggested we stop at the Krispy Kreme Doughnut shop. Hubby pulled into the drive-thru and ordered an original glazed and a chocolate glazed.
I asked him to get a box of doughnut holes for the kids, and he inquired, “Is that all?” I nodded my head in the affirmative and we pulled to the window.
Upon receiving our order, I reached into the bag and pulled out the original glazed. Just as I was putting it into my mouth, hubby looked at me with fierce hostility shooting from his eyes and spewed out the words, “Are you going to eat MY doughnut?”
In shock, I quickly removed the still unbitten treat from my mouth and said, “Oh, I’m sorry. Is the chocolate one mine?”
“No. They’re both mine. You said you didn’t want anything,” he replied.
“Why would I say that? It was my idea to come here in the first place!”
As he drove around the building he continued insisting that I told him I didn’t want anything, and I continued insisting I never said such a thing.
He pulled up to the front door and handed me a dollar.
“Are you seriously going to make me get my exhausted, pregnant body out of this car and go in to buy a doughnut?” I asked in disbelief.
“No,” he replied, “You can buy me another doughnut because you broke the glaze on mine.”
“I am so not buying you a doughnut,” I bristled. “The new one is mine!”
I stormed out of the van, stomped across the sidewalk, and pulled my shoulder out of socket attempting to wrench open a locked door. It was 9:02. They had just closed.
As I made my way back to the vehicle, I saw hubby grab the doughnut bag and clutch it to his chest. I got in and threatened, “You better pray that drive-thru is still open.”
He pulled back into the line, still insisting that I didn’t want anything. Finally, I said as nicely as I could, “Look, honey, I thought you had already ordered for me. Whatever you said, I know you never asked if I wanted anything.”
Daughter supplied from the backseat, “He said, ‘Is that all?’”
“That’s it! You said, ‘is that all?’ And since I thought you had already ordered for me I thought that was all. You’d have to be crazy to think a pregnant woman would suggest Krispy Kreme Doughnuts and then decide not to order.”
“You said you didn’t want anything,” he insisted under his breath as we pulled to the window for a second time.
Anyone can see that asking “Is that all?” is not the same as asking, “Do you want anything?”
The drive-thru guy gave hubby a sympathetic look and refused to take our dollar. “No charge,” he said. “It’s on the house.”
In the meantime, I began scarfing down the new doughnut before hubby remembered the broken glaze.
Back on the interstate we had a good laugh over the absurdity of the situation. No matter how often we argue, it’s usually humor that gets us back on track. Although, if he wanted to admit he’s the stubborn one, that would work too.
Ginger is an author, speaker and mother of five. Find her on Facebook (Ginger Truitt-Author) and Twitter (@GingerTruitt), or contact her at firstname.lastname@example.org.