"Janna, you don't have to order what the server suggests if it doesn't sound good to you."
"Dan, yes I do. Have you seen When Chefs Attack? It is worse than When Animals Attack."
So I would end up with a meal I didn’t care for, and do you know what my husband would do? Now this might be the most romantic gesture ever. He would trade his meal with me. “Thank you, Honey,” I said as I looked at him, so impressed with his selfless love.
"I will handle this," my husband said in a deep, suave voice. His hand reached over the table to rest atop of mine. Chills ran up and down my spine. "Oooo," I sang in response. "She will have the blah, blah, blah, blah," he said in French. "Oh," I found myself blushing, "What did you order me?" "Shhh," he pushed his finger against my lips, and then he raised my hand and pressed his lips against the palm of my hand. Oh my. Handing over leadership could be very interesting.
Our food arrived.
For him- chicken burrito.
For me- chicken burrito.
"Dan, you ordered us the same thing," I said, puzzled.
"Yeah, just in case we have to trade."
So my husband orders my food for me, and I find him to be very capable, masculine, and sexy when doing so.
But now....well, now we have a different problem.
Whenever I go to a restaurant without him and the server asks me, “What would you like?” I stare at them blankly.