Could He REALLY Be Right?

Ok, so one of the basic rules that men learn (or are supposed to learn) early on in their marriage is that "women are always right". Say it with me now..."Women are ALWAYS right".

However, there must have been a shift in the planetary alignment or something because by golly, I think my husband may have been right. That's right...read that sentence very carefully. Notate the date if you must because this is a groundbreaking announcement.

How did I come to this epiphany, you ask? Well, the other day Dave and I were at the store. He said that we needed peanut butter. I told him…”don’t worry about it. I bought some.” When we got home he looked in the pantry and much to his dismay, I had bought what I called peanut butter (Peter Pan Peanut Butter to be exact), but what he referred to as “crap”. He continued to hound me about how I bought this crappy peanut butter and “what was I thinking”. Honestly, I was thinking that I like the way Peter Pan Peanut Butter tasted over Skippy.



If I took the “Pepsi Challenge” I would choose Peter Pan. I made a big deal of it. I tried to tell him to live with it. It’s JUST peanut butter. Next time I will consider buying his brand, but knowing deep back in the recesses of my mind that I would not be buying Skippy. I would again buy Peter Pan Peanut Butter.

Then all of a sudden the world changes. Up is down and down is up. I see a sound byte on the news that there is a recall of Peter Pan Peanut Butter. I cringe. This cannot be, I cry. But alas, it is so. So I do what any person would do. I call my friend Josh. The conversation went a little something like this:

Josh: Hello
Mel: Hey Guess what?
Josh: What
Mel: Dave made a huge deal about me buying the wrong kind of peanut butter and I made an even bigger deal about how it’s just peanut butter and it doesn’t really matter. I just saw on the news that the peanut butter I was defending is being recalled. It made a bunch of people sick.
Josh: Don’t tell Dave. (laughing the whole time) He’ll never let you live this one down.
Mel: I thought about it, but I think I have to…I mean, he’s right and I made a huge deal about it.

The next day I come home from work, and the Peter Pan Peanut butter is sitting on the coffee table. I panic...what do I do? I nonchalantly tell Dave that I may have heard something on the news about Peter Pan Peanut butter. Dave smiles and says that he knows. He checked the label and there was a certain pattern of numbers on the can that notates the affected peanut butters. Luck of all lucks, of course I bought the tainted peanut butter. Not only did I buy the tainted peanut butter, but I fought for and defended the tainted peanut butter.

Needless to say, Dave is reveling in his short-lived superiority and I promptly found the proper home for my peanut butter…the trash. 