Don't get your hopes up

Sunday I had to be at work at 7:00pm. This means I get up at 5:00p, shower, compose, and leave. There is rarely time for dinner at home unless DH (dear husband) has helped with pizza, spaghetti, or lasagna.
I had just stepped out of the shower and was trying to tweeze a whisker (28 and a whisker, really?) when DH opened the bathroom door. Of course I was a little mortified and turned quickly and "guiltily."

DH: What's for dinner?

Me:

DH: There is nothing here

Me: I know (really I did, not even bread for a PB&J).

DH: Do you want me to go get something?

Me: Would you. (oh the excitement, he is so wonderful).

DH: You have to be at work at 7:00pm? I'm going now.

I ironed my scrubs, dried my hair and even started my make-up. Where in the world was he? Oh, crap, my phone is on silent. What if he has been in an accident?

45 minutes after he left he came home with groceries.

DH: I got pizza (looking at the clock) do you have time?

Me: No

DH: Do you need money?

Me: Yes.

I felt like crying. What is wrong with me? I may have had to eat out tonight, but there is pizza for tomorrow or bread and lunchmeat for sandwiches. He even bought straws. This man did so much more than most and yet I was disappointed.