Mrs. Cranky and I bicker a lot, but we seldom have a real argument. When we do fight, it is usually because Mrs. C overreacts to and or misinterprets some minor action or casual comment on my part.
Last week, the XY step-crank came to dinner with his girlfriend. I was grilling hotdogs and hamburgers. Mrs. C gave me five hotdogs and three hamburgers to grill and told me she only wanted a hotdog.
Mrs. C is generally not very picky about food. As long as it is not seasoned and it is hot, she is generally happy. Flavor is not particularly important; temperature is very important. She is particular about my grilling. She wants her steaks and chops rare, and her hotdogs well done. She wants her hotdogs very well done.
I figured she wanted me to grill one dog per person with one extra in case someone wanted two and one hamburger for everyone but her.
As usual I grilled everything to perfection, and left one hotdog on the hot side of the grill to make it well done. When I presented the well done dog to Mrs. C she was not happy.
“WHY DID YOU COOK MINE SO LONG?”
“I just grilled it a little extra so it would be how you like it.”
“A LITTLE EXTRA? YOU GRILLED THE CRAP OUT OF IT. IT’s ALL SHRIVELED UP AND BURNT!!”
Taken aback at her venomous outburst, I calmly took the overdone dog and casually flipped it outside for the squirrels.
“WHAT THE FUCK! WHY DID YOU DO THAT?”
“I’ll just grill the extra dog a bit more for you, it’s not a problem. I’m so sorry I overcooked it.”
“There is NO EXTRA DOG! There is one for you, one for Tori, and two for Peter!”
“Peter wants two dogs and a hamburger?”
“NO, HE ONLY WANTED TWO DOGS…THE THIRD HAMBUGER WAS EXTRA. NOW I HAVE NOTHING!!”
“I’m sorry, here, take my hotdog.”
“No thank you, I’ll just have some soup. JERK!! I can’t believe you threw one away. YOU ARE SUCH A JERK!!”
“Gee, I’m really sorry. I didn’t understand.”
Can you believe how Mrs. C overreacted to such a simple…
Not so fast! Mrs. Cranky here and this is what REALLY happened.
Okay, yes, Peter and Tori were over for hamburgers & hot dogs. Four burgers, one for each and five dogs, Peter wanted two.
I do like my meat on the rare side, but I also like my dogs well done/shriveled.
Joe brings in the burgers and the dogs. He went outside to do something with the grill, then he came back in.
I said, (not yelling, because I never yell)
“I like my dogs shriveled dear, not chard. Sometimes you do tend to burn them?”
He got all huffy and started to rant and rave about my food habits and my strange tastes and he says,
“FINE, NEXT TIME YOU GRILL YOUR OWN DAMN DOG!”
While saying that, he flung my hot dog out the back door twenty yards onto the grass.
I was shocked!!
“What did you just do??”
“Just eat the damn extra one!”
“There isn't an extra one dear.”
“Yes there is; it’s on the grill!”
“Oh no your mistaken sweetheart, I took out just enough.”
“Well then damn it, just deal with it!
So I ate my burger and the empty hot dog roll.
He admitted later that he didn't realize there was not an extra hot dog, but he did NOT apologize for violently flinging my hot dog out the door.
Cranky has a habit of over-reacting, and he is very defensive about his grilling.
Don't even ask him about Mother's Day...
And I know nothing about Mother’s Day.