Weiners

As usual, I have another story to tell. Last night David and I were laying in bed having our nightly conversation and were discussing what he'd be wearing to the gig tomorrow. When he first told me what he was planning on wearing I totally misunderstood the shirt he was talking about, which then meant the outfit that I thought he was describing would totally clash. We cleared that up only to have conflicting thoughts as to what the color of the actual shirt was. He stated that it was black and I stated that it was navy blue. As usual, we didn't back down from each other and I said that I'd bet him on it (which is something I'd never do. I always know I'm right but I hate the bet idea). Anyway, the bet was if I was right David would owe me a trip to DairyFrost for a small splurge of ice cream and his side if he won was that he got another Vikings thing for his room. Deal. We shook hands and I said that we'd check it out in the morning. No. Of course David couldn't go to bed at this point and he went to get the shirt. Are you serious? Now I find this quite funny because we've totally switched roles here. I'd normally be the one being anal about it and this time it's him.He disappears for a few minutes and takes an awful long time to come back to the bedroom, so I'm thinking, "Ah, he's wrong and doesn't want to admit it." But just then he walks in and says, "We're both weiners!" There's no dominant color in the shirt. There are all these stripes and with both colors. So what does that mean? We're both wrong and the bet is null and void. We had to laugh about it as we say to each other, "I don't remember the shirt really looking like that...." We then roll over and go to sleep. These are the small moments in life that make it fun. When you get to share a chuckle at no one's expense.