The other night
Me: I'm hungry. I AM SO HUNGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY!!! And my wine isn't working.
(Not kidding. I did say that. Obviously it was working enough for me to not realize it wasn't working. Luckily I was headache free the next day)
M: Well, what do you want?
Me: I don't care. I AM HUNGRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRY! Oh my freaking goodness if I don't eat I AM GOING TO DIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIE!
Some time later. I walk into the kitchen.
Me: Why is it so hot in here? What are you doing?
M: You said you were hungry.
Me: But not that! I don't like that stuff. This sucks! And my wine isn't working (pouring more wine into the glass)
More time passes. I go back into the kitchen.
M: Here. It's done.
Me: Ugh. It's not crunchy enough. (grabbed a sleeve of saltines and pulverize them) That should do it.
Three bites later
Me: I don't want this.
M: Leave it on the table, I'll eat it in the morning.
Moral of the story - Should have just had take out. I am way too picky when I drink. And M has a tremendous about of patience.