Great Expectations?

Am I the only "house wife" (I use this term very loosely...) in America with a husband who can look in the refrigerator and tell me with a grief stricken, forlorn face that there is nothing to drink while gazing upon five to six different icy cold beverage choices???

Seriously, I have had numerous occasions where after unloading beer, bottled water, juice, milk, Gatorade and chocolate milk into the most important appliance in my house hold, I am told unequivocally that, "There is not a thing to drink..." by my dear and loving spouse.

The reality is that this commentary from my husband is code for "I want a Pepsi." But I refuse to supply the high fructose corn syrup-carmel colored elixer to the humming bird my husband has allowed himself to become.

So by his declaration, my husband, either wants to incite a battle over some inconsequential beverage choice, or he likes to hear me scream like a victim out of Halloween XX. I hardly can believe the shrieks that emerge from my own vocal cords when I am accosted with such an attack.

Is that me yelling or is someone being bludgeoned with an ax? He is known to be a tinsy bit antagonistic just for fun and I should, after 13 years of exposure to him, be well immunized from such balderdash, but somehow I am always suckered in.

To sum it up, if my husband was a wizard he would cast a spell upon the refrigerator such that upon its opening a colorful puff of smoke would burst from within and a cold soda would levitate to his lips, while simultaneously a hot cheeseburger and fries would leap into his hands. Then he would say jovially, "See, Honey, I made dinner tonight."

Aggggghhhh!!!!!