He’s From Mars; I’m From Neptune

Hubs and I went to Starbucks this morning.

And that differs from other mornings because…why?

Because this morning, on my way to Bible study, Hubs texted me and said, “I know you’re hitting The Bucks before your Bible study. Bring me something.” I think the text may have gone on to say that I could find a new place to hang my hat and wash my dishes, if I failed to deliver an enormous, paper cup filled with liquid gold to him at his office.

Naturally, I gave into the man’s threats, because I like his dishwasher, and I’d prefer to stay here and use it, instead of risking my luck with living somewhere else, where the dishwasher may turn out to be sub-par.

As I was driving across town (and obeying all posted speed limits, mostly) with Hubs’ drink, I just happened to realize how different he and I are with our Starbucks choices.

Although I love the smell of coffee, and could literally sit over a bag of coffee beans that were freshly picked by Juan Valdez and inhale dramatically with a smile on my face, I do not love how it tastes. In fact, I think I’d have to rank the taste of coffee right up there with Brussels sprouts, slimy mushrooms, and dirt. Because of this, my Starbucks cups, although filled to the brim numerous times each week, seldom hold any juice from the java bean plant.

This week, I’m on a kick: sugar-free vanilla steamers with skim milk. Oh, people! It’s like a little bit of dessert in a cup, and they make my heart smile.

Over the weekend, Hubs quirked an eyebrow at me while I was ordering at The Bucks and said, “Your drink is a ‘why bother’ in a cup. Seriously, why do you even bother with it? It’s sugar-free. It’s skim milk. And there’s no caffeine. There’s nothing there to make me happy at all.”

On the flip side of that, Hubs’ drink of choice is the venti mocha breve, extra shot, add whip, please and thank you.

He calls his drink, “Oh, yeah, baby! I bothered alright!” It’s basically a pound of chocolate syrup mixed with a gallon of half-and-half and enough coffee to make a tortoise yodel loudly while taking an aerobics class taught by Jillian Michaels.

And even though he makes fun of my morning beverages, I continue to be madly in love with him.

It’s because his dishwasher rocks.

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