Matt comes home, and I immediately know what game he's playing. "No, I'm not going to call Dell for you. Your computer is broken, you have to get it fixed," I tell him.
He begs, he pleads, he offers to buy me new shoes. I stand firm.
I threaten not to talk to him until he calls Dell, but he sees that as more of a reward than a punishment, happy to finally have peace from my incessant yapping. I give in on that tactic - but not on my resolution to not call Dell.
"Every time mine breaks, I call. And when it started to break last week, I had to field a call from that crazy, non-English speaking Dell employee for you - and even though we had a significant language issue, I managed to fix your computer. And, every time we've ordered pizza since we've been in Akron, I've had to call. So you're making this call, or you're living with a computer that doesn't turn on. So HA," I tell him triumphantly.
Still, he persists. "I'm going for a run," he tells me. "Call Dell while I'm out."
"I'm busy making dinner," I tell him, finally realizing how to end this conversation that has gone on for 45 minutes already.
"What are you making?" he enquires, watching me cut into an onion.
"Fajitas," I say, without looking up. "Vegetarian fajitas."
I can tell that he's shocked. "What happened to the steak and chicken you were going to put in?" he asks, almost pitifully.
"If you don't call Dell, there isn't going to be any," I say, gleefully. I can tell that my plan is going to work. He'd do anything for Steak and Chicken Fajitas.