Me, the other morning, “Brian, would you make me a cup of coffee, please?”
Brian, “Sure. How would you like it?”
Me, “Milk to a nice color and a dollop of cool whip.”
Brian, “A dollop? That’s not a real thing.”
Me, “Yes, it is!” Singing the commercial’s jingle, “Do a dollop. Do, do a dollop of Daisy…”
Brian, “Pfff… Well, how much is a dollop?”
Me, “It’s a heaping spoonful. Like two spoonfuls on one spoon.”
Brian exited the bedroom and prepared my coffee.
Brian, yelling from the kitchen, “WHERE’S THE COOL WHIP?”
Me, yelling from the bedroom, “In the FREEZER!”
Brian, still yelling, “Why is it in the freezer?”
Me, still yelling, “‘Cause it’s cool whip. It’s not the same thing as whipped cream!”
When he returned, the coffee color was right, but…
Me, “That’s not a dollop!”
Brian, offended, “The hell it isn’t!”
Me, “Hold on. Let me see if it tastes like a dollop.”
Brian, exasperated, rolling his eyes at me.
The sweetest thing about this moment is that my husband actually stood there and watched me taste my coffee. If you looked past the look of judgment on his face, you could tell that he was more than ready to take my mug back for more scoops of cool whip.
Me, “Nope. You’re right. That tastes like a dollop. Thank you.”