I needed caffeine. I woke up with a headache. I was irritable. My husband was going to the store to get some groceries, I asked him to bring me some Diet Coke. When he got back from the store, he came in our room with a cup.
“Here is your Diet Coke.” He said handing me a plastic cup with soda, ice and a straw.
“That’s nice of you to bring it to me honey, thanks.” I said taking the cup from him. Just as I was about to take a sip I looked in the cup. “This looks funny, what is in it?” I asked.
He was already out of earshot. I took a sip and it tasted fine. I thought maybe it was a dirty cup. That sounds gross and I was thinking it seemed like their was milk in the cup which would make it impossible to see when he poured it since the inside of the cup was white and since Diet Coke is foamy, he never would have noticed. The drink looked a little murky to me. I know he would never give me a dirty cup and I was already feeling badly that I even thought such a thing. I was feeling ill and irritable anyway and I heard myself complaining . . .
“Honey, there is something wrong with this drink.” He came back into the room. I realized at that point what I must sound like to him. I had been complaining all morning. I decided to change my tune.
“Honey, did you put something in my drink?” I asked him coyly.
He said, “Nooo, why?”
“Look at this. . . it’s murky.” Smiling, I asked him, “Is this a clean cup?”
“Of course it is,” He answered.
“Is this how you are going to get rid of me? Did you poison my drink?” I pushed.
He laughed. “Of course not!”
I started giggling.
He sat down next to me to look at the drink. “It’s fine” he said, “it’s just Diet Coke.”
He flashed me a smile. He knew at this point I was teasing. Surely he was relieved that the bitching had subsided.
“You drink it.” I told him, handing him the cup.
He said, “Sure, I will drink some.” He held the cup up to his mouth, holding the straw as if he was going to take a sip and he moved the straw to the side of his face and turned his head a bit so it looked like he was drinking it. He started laughing hysterically. I knew exactly what he was doing. “Its’ fine, see. Now you drink it.” He handed the cup back to me.
I took the cup. I looked in it. I knew it was fine and I had already drank some before he came back into the room, but it was fun to play this little game. We have a long history of joking around about our ultimate demise.
I looked in the cup. By this time all the foam had dissipated and it was clearly just Diet Coke. I said, “No way! You didn’t drink it, I saw you move the straw. Take a sip so I can see you.” Giving the cup back to him once again laughing as I handed it back. I was thinking of the scene in The Princess Bride where The Man in Black (Westley) puts the Iocane powder into the wine and a battle of wits ensues between him and Vizzini.
He said, “Okay, okay,” and took two or three obvious gulps as I said, “From the cup this time, not the straw!”
“Hmmm . . . I guess it is okay then. But, I am on to you!” I said when he gave the cup back to me. I was going to bring up the fact that I am aware that he might have built up a resistance to Iocane, but I was laughing too hard and my head hurt too much to get the words out.
“I am not trying to kill you.” He said as he left the room, still laughing.
I realize that we watch a lot of crime drama television. Maybe too much!
Now that I think of it, he did sound maniacal as he was laughing. I may have to be more careful for now on!
One of the best things about our marriage is our sense of humor. The only reason I would ever accuse him of trying to “get rid of me” is because I fear that he will tire of me. It stems from my insecurity. He is aware of this and feeds my need for reassurance. We depend on each other for this give and take now and then. We have always been able to laugh at ourselves as soon as we realize what is happening. I am grateful for this part of our relationship and I try not to ever take it for granted. It is a blessing.