Cup-A-Soup...

So, it's Mother's Day. I'm high as a kite, and in a world of a hurt. My kids came in this morning with a gorgeous buzy lizzy plant, and cards for me. I hope he wasn't being "funny" but hubby got me a "reformer" session, and a massage at the gym, and promised I could do the TN trip when I was better.

Several hours later, I made it downstairs - god knows I was just going down to check & make sure the stove wasn't left on again.

I asked hubby if he'd be a dear and pop out to the grocery and get me some cup-a-soups - you know those 70 calorie, 4 to a box, things that you pour a hot cup of water over? I wanted him to get me a box of tomato and a box of chicken soup flavor. I didn't think I could handle chunks, veggies or anything like that, and just wanted something brothy, that I could drink down. I've always bought those things when I'm not feeling good for some reason.

SO, he comes back, with Oxtail and some other kinds of "packet" stuff that you make "dips" out of. About 6 different boxes of stuff. I explained it again, in detail, and off he went for the 2nd time. This time he came back with every brand of canned soup on the market. Split pea, lentil, tomato/veggie, and boxes of that campbells soup stuff. I was seriously pissed off.

SO, as I'm still up and holding onto the wall for support, I hunted down a box, with one last packet in it, and sent him out again - with the box and the packet. I really wanted cup-a-soup, and I realized I was acting like the "soup natzi" but didn't care.

I was obviously not going to get cup-a-soup. The store manager of the local Giant called me. She told me she was standing with my husband in the soup aisle, and unfortunately for me, they no longer stock "cup-a-soup" -- I swear to god, if it hadn't been for the fact that I can't breathe, I'd have been rolling around the floor laughing my pants off.

SO, he is going to be having a lot of soup for dinner for the next few weeks because I swear no joke he spent almost $150 on the stuff. When I'm better, I'm going to the grocery store to find a box of it, and then I'm going to beat him with it ;-) Are all husbands this daft? Or just mine?