Lobster Killer

“I’m giving up Glee,” I said to my husband who sat across the table from my at Red Lobster.  Neither of us had ever eaten at Red Lobster, and neither of us had ever eaten lobster.  We had set aside some money to go out on Valentine’s Day to try lobster for the first time, and finally -last night, nearly the Ides of March -we had our Valentine’s Date.

“Why?” he asked, his mouth full of warm, flaky cheddar biscuits.

“What do you mean ‘why?’ Because it’s trashy!  Anyway, you’re not supposed to question my motives.  You’re just supposed to fawn over me and tell me how proud you are of the good decisions I’m making.” I replied.

“But don’t you like that show?”

“I like the music in that show.  There’s a difference,” I said, “And didn’t you hear what I just said?  You’re supposed to be applauding me, not doubting me.  Here’s the thing: I gave up Glee last week and it lasted all of four hours.  This week, it’s lasted 3 days.  Three whole days.”

“Well maybe this week it won’t be trashy.” He shrugged.

“It will so!” My eyes were wide in surprise, “What are you doing here, man?  Trying to make me go home and watch it?”

“Can you watch a preview of this week’s episode?” He asked.

“NO!” I cried, throwing my hands up. “I mean, I don’t know but that’s not the point.  I’m not GOING to watch one.”

“What if this episode turns out to be the best one yet?”

“Fine!” I said, “That’s it.  When we’re done here, we’re going home and we’re watching Glee.  You and me.”

“No.  I’m not watching that show.”

“Well I am.  You seem set on my watching it, so I will.  With you.  It’ll be your punishment for tempting me to fail.” I pointed my fork at him.

“I was just playing devil’s advocate.”

“Is that why I married you?  Or did I marry you so you’d be supportive of my good decisions?”

“You married me to keep things interesting.” He grinned.

“You’re watching that show,” I shot back.

“Now I’m going to feel really bad if you go home and watch it.” He tucked his head down and chuckled.

I’m happy to report that I did NOT watch glee.

Get thee hence, devil’s advocate.

In my defense, I must say that Glee didn’t used to as trashy as it is now.  Dang it.