My (Assumed) Failure To Communicate

It's 3:00 p.m. and I want marshmallows. Really, really bad. I don't know if it's a seasonal thing or what, but I have these marshmallow-fiend cycles where I could eat marshmallows all day long. (Not the jet-puffed kind, the mini ones)

Anyway, I called Joey.

"Um, hi. How are you?" I asked, attempting small talk when all I really wanted to do was ask him to bring me marshmallows.

"Fine..." and he told me some stuff about what he'd been doing.

"I'm starved for marshmallows. Do we have any in the house?" I asked, feeling subtle and like this effort was going to be successful.

"Let me check...no, no marshmallows."

"Oh. Darn. I really want some. Could you put them on the list?"

"Sure," said Joey. I began to wilt; obviously he was not picking up on my "Please bring me marshmallows" subtlety.

"Well, I guess I'll talk to you later," I mumbled, feeling less victorious by the minute.

"OK, I'm going to go do some homework now," Joey said.

I supposed that this was, in the words of Ernest P. Worrill, "a failure to communicate".

Twenty minutes later...

I looked up from my desk to see my husband and our furry son, Henry, come in the front door of my office!

Could it be?! He was here (and so was Henry), could he have possibly brought me...marshmallows?! I didn't see them anywhere unless...

Joey pulled a bag of mini marshmallows out of his coat and I positively wiggled with glee. YES!!! Joey, Henry AND mini-marshmallows! What a great end to a particulary uneventful Monday.

Amazingly Joey had picked up on my subtlety and thought, "Either she's asking me to bring her marshmallows, or it would be a good idea for me to surprise her with marshmallows." So he packed up the kid (not Alex The Kid, but our kid) and went to HyVee on the spot.

I married the best man.