The question did not seem all that controversial. I did not mean to stir up any deep emotions in my wife. I just had a simple inquiry.

But apparently, you can cause a huge uproar in our house just by asking “What’s for dinner?”

I need to provide a little background first. The incident happened on a Saturday night after my wife came home from work. She got a few things out to make dinner, and my curiosity got the best of me.

Earlier in the week, I noticed she had bought a six-pack of sub rolls. They caught my eye because she usually doesn’t buy something like that. I was intrigued and asked what she would use them for.

I got a one word answer: “Dinner.” She likes to do that to me.

Now my wife and I do not have any problem getting along. I think. This is not the start of some major rift in our relationship. I think. She answered the question with a smirk on her face, not a look of anger. I think.
So I didn’t ask any more questions about the sub rolls … until she pulled them out of the freezer on that fateful Saturday night. She took three of them out of the package, then put an onion and a green pepper on a cutting board.

Right then and there, I could have guessed steak subs. I didn’t know if she had steak, but I knew she had gone to market earlier that day. If this were some bizarre home version of “Wheel of Fortune,” I would have asked to solve the puzzle.

But we don’t usually make steak subs at home. Maybe she had something else up her sleeve. So I did what I thought any normal person would do. I asked what was for dinner.

Now I’m learning normal people don’t do that. They sit quietly and watch the process unfold to see what happens at the end. At least that’s what I’m being told to do these days.

As usual, I’m exaggerating what happened. Maria simply asked me if I had ever sat down for dinner and found something disgusting on the plate in front of me. She wondered why I had to ask the question if I trusted her cooking skills. I didn’t really have an answer other than “I like to know what I’m having.” That really did me no good. Appreciating anticipation counts for nothing, I guess.

Later in the evening, we looked over the day’s comics in the newspaper. One of our favorite strips – “Baby Blues” – featured the kids asking the mother what she was making for dinner. She went on a long rant, and we had a good laugh about the coincidence. Or maybe it was more of a warning than a coincidence.

In the end, I really loved the steak subs – see, I was right. Since that night, I have had to constantly remind myself that we still have three sub rolls and some steak in the freezer.

When I see them out in the kitchen, I’m keeping my mouth shut.