Let me set the scene. It’s Sunday afternoon. Husband and I are discussing What’s For Dinner.
Husband: I think I want pizza and chicken salad.
Me [nonplussed, as I have made chicken salad 1 time in the past 5 years]: Chicken salad?
Husband: Yeah. We got the stuff for chicken salad?
Me [increasingly confused] : Yeah, but you never want chicken salad?
Husband: I eat chicken salad all the time, what are you talking about?
Me: I can’t remember the last time we had chicken salad.
Husband [now giving me the side-eye] : We just had it like a few weeks ago.
Husband: Nevermind. We have lettuce, right? I haven’t seen any in there.
Me: We’ve got celery and I guess I can make bread.
Husband: WTF are you talking about. I don’t want celery and I don’t want bread. We’re having pizza. That’s enough bready stuff.
Me: It’s chicken salad. Celery is required and I won’t fight you on the bread if you just want it in a bowl, but WTF do you want lettuce with your chicken salad for? That’s just a garnish.
[Cue us looking at each other like the other has lost their mind]
Husband: I meant a chicken salad. You know, with lettuce and tomatoes? What did you think I meant?
Me: Chicken salad. Like with celery and mayo in a scoop shape.
[Confusion levels over 9000. Slow, dawning realization. Proceed to die of laughter]