My Husband just called me Petulance: The Fifth Horseman of the Apocalypse. I was merely gearing up for a huff because I (mistakenly I admit) found a toblerone box in the bin and thought he'd eaten all of his toblerone and not shared with me when I had shared some of my chocolates with him last night. I wasn't aware he had saved me some in the fruit bowl (yeah, as if I'm looking for chocolates in the fruit bowl, great place to hide them!), but I hadn't hit actual huffage by the time I got the insulting moniker. I was still in the gathering of facts phase to gauge the level of huff I should display.
This is the problem with being married so long, he can see it coming a mile off now. I miss the good old days where I'd knock him into babbling dismay with a look and a pout. *sigh* Where has the power gone?