Last night, Hubby and I had a date night. The babysitter arrived at 4 and we
Hubby wasn't feeling that great. He had a headache and was acting kinda blah.
BUT WE HAD A BABYSITTER!
So off we went, leaving behind the boyz, the babysitter, Domino's Pizza and the Surf's Up movie in our wake (get it? wake? Surf's Up?)
Before we got onto the highway, Hubby pulled into a Dunkin Donuts drive-thru. I figured he probably wanted to order a coffee to perk himself up. So imagine my suprise when instead of the words "medium regular" coming from his mouth, instead I heard, "I'll have a medium vanilla chai, please."
Hello?! Who are you and where is my husband?!
A vanilla what?
Chai? (Before this, I wasn't even sure how to pronounce the word, being the inexperienced non-coffe, non-tea drinker that I am. Do you say the C-H like cheese, or do you say a hard C, like chord?)
You see, Hubby prides himself on NOT being trendy. He's totally old school. (Meaning he acts like a 75 year old man.) Cranky. Opinionated. A (sees things in) black and white, meat and potatoes kind of guy. Certainly NOT a vanilla chai ordering kind of guy. (As those of you who know my husband in real life are vigorously shaking your heads yes in agreement right now.)
So of course I was doubled over with laughter as we drove to the drive-up window. Razzing him nonstop. Grilling him as to where he'd ever even heard of chai, much less had the urge to try it! ("Oooh, so you're Mr. Hippie Tea Drinker now, huh? Do you sit in Barnes & Noble and sip your vanilla chai while you read [insert trendy literary publication here]?")
He was pretty defensive, but in a joking-with-me sort of way.
"There's lots of stuff you don't know about me. See, I'm hip, I'm cool, I'm with it." [said in a Dr. Evil voice]
Which made me roar even more.
As we pulled away, vanilla chai in hand, my curiosity got the best of me.
"Well, what does it taste like? (It smelled really good.) Is it coffee or tea? How many calories are in it?" (Because who wants to DRINK calories when there's still so much Halloween candy left!)
You see, as I mentioned, I'm not a coffee or tea drinker. At all. I just don't like hot drinks in general. I'm thinking maybe sometime in my childhood I burnt my mouth really bad on a scalding drink or something. Just my theory.
Tired of my running commentary, Hubby shoved the styrofoam cup into my hand.
My Hipster Hubby: Stop teasing me and just try it!
("You may like them, you will see.")
Me: Nah, I don't even want to bother. I hate tea!
("I do not like them, Sam-I-am.")
Hubby: But you've never had chai before. (So sayeth the newly-appointed chai ambassador, apparently.)
("Try them! Try them! And you may. Try them and you may I say.")
Me: All right! I'll take a tiny sip. But I know I'm not gonna like it.
("If you will let me be, I will try them. You will see.")
I cradled my hands around the warmth of the cup and lifted it to my lips.
("Say! I like green eggs and ham! I do! I like them, Sam-I-am!")
The rest of date night went swimmingly as we basked in a glow of togetherness over our newfound shared love of Dunkin Donuts vanilla chai. [insert birds singing over a rainbow-laden sky]