“Where do you want to eat? Can we have teriyaki? Or do you want to grab something quick from Larry’s deli section?” I asked. Mr. Husband had just pulled into the plaza where the movie theater was. He was staring at one of his favorite taco stands.

“We can eat wherever you want. We could get tacos….” Mr. Husband always wants tacos.

“Well, can we have teriyaki? We had chili last night and I’m burnt out on chili powder.”

“We can have any of those three things. This is a date, after all.” He patted my leg. We had dumped the girlie with her grandma so we could see a grown-up movie.

“Three things? Tacos is not a choice,” I said. I decided I was going to be a difficult date.

“Okay, whatever you want.” Mr. Husband pulled the keys out of the ignition and held his hands up. I could see what he was thinking: “I’m not taking this crazy bitch out again.”

“If I choose, does that mean I have to put out?” I asked.

“You’re not supposed to ask, you’re supposed to wait-and-see-what-happens,” he said.

“So we have to wait and see if I’m crazy bitch and if you’re a jerk? Just don’t stick your tongue in my ear or call me ‘baby’.”

“Let’s have teriyaki. Man, I hate dating.”

“Me too,” I said.

Some nights it’s easier to be stuck at home on the couch with the girlie.