A conversation from last night:
Me: Where’s the blue pasta bowl?
Husband: What blue pasta bowl? We don’t have a blue pasta bowl.
Me: Yes we do. Not a big one. An individual one. You use it for cereal.
Husband: I don’t eat cereal.
Me thinking, ‘Yes you do – I have to collect the bowl from beside your bed and you’re the only one insane enough to eat Optivita..’
Me: But it’s the blue pasta bowl. The Denby one. I bought it for your birthday ages ago. It’s cream inside.
Me thinking, ‘Hurry up. Hairy’s paella is getting cold and I want to serve it in the pasta bowl. If it’s next to the bed I’m going to kill you.’
Husband: Oh, you mean the BROWN one.
Me: Noooo. We’ve never had a brown one. Only the blue ones and the white ones we got for our wedding, which were neither blue nor brown.
It’s not bright blue. More a dark grey blue. But definitely BLUE.
I suddenly remember that I used the bowl the day before at dinner and it’s likely to be in the fridge as we speak, vessel of choice for the leftover veg. I go to the fridge and retrieve the BLUE bowl.
Me: This one.
Husband: Yes, the BROWN one.
Me: What?! How can you say that’s brown?! It’s most definitely BLUE.
OK, here it actually looks more BLACK, thanks to the pitiful light in our dingy kitchen, but trust me, it’s a dark, greyish BLUE.
Me: I mean, it’s called STORM. You do not get BROWN storms, but you do get dark, greyish BLUE ones.
Obviously I’ve won. But how colour blind can a man be? Or how stubborn? I need to make my point with greater emphasis and show Husband how very wrong he is. In front of Husband, I rope Grandy into the debate. This is surely going to bag the argument.
Me: What colour would you say this bowl is?
Me: Whaaaaat?!?!?! It’s BLUE! How can you two not see that it’s BLUE?! What’s wrong with men.
Indeed, what IS wrong with men? I need a female collaborator. I head up stairs where my sister, Hairy*, and Boo are watching Cinderella.
(*She’s not hairy, by the way. But it’s what Noodles calls her and – because she’s mortified every time – it’s stuck.)
Me: What colour would you say this bowl is?
Hairy: Blue. A dark, navy-greyish blue.
Boo: It’s blue.
Me: EXACTLY. It’s definitely not brown then?
Three to two. By democratic rule, the bowl is BLUE. But not everyone has cast a vote. Besides, is it a boy/girl thing? I head to the top floor to consult Eve and her boyfriend. Their opinion?
Ok, five vs two: the bowl is definitely BLUE. And it’s not a gender thing. It’s just Husband and Grandy being optometric freaks. Or maybe it’s an age thing? Maybe I’ll one day swear blind the bowl is brown and wonder how I ever thought it was blue. Not that I would ever EVER admit that to Husband.
Confused, yet adamant I’m right, I decide to consult the great oracle of the ether: Google. Without fail, ALL of the pictures show Denby Storm as BLUE and cream tableware.
Not brown, but blue.
One BLUE and cream bowl, identical to ours.
How could that ever possibly be considered to be brown?
Looking bluer by the second.
Thanks, Google. You’ve shown that I am definitely right on this matter…and therefore more likely to be in the right in ALL marital disputes. Of which there are many. But then, if I’ve got a husband who will so adamantly argue blue is brown, can you imagine what he’s like over other, less black-and-white areas of ‘debate’?
Besides (and this I will NEVER tell Husband)…it turns out we were ALL wrong. Because Denby Storm tableware is neither blue nor brown…but PLUM!!!
Luckily, Microwave Meal For One (surely the saddest business name ever?) rescues me. Yes, the bowl in question is PLUM, but …blue, plum and beige merge to create the moody BLUE gray of the DISTICTIVE glaze of Denby Storm.
Microwave Meals For One, I thank you. Not only am I right, but the colour is ‘distinctive’, ie Husband, it’s OBVIOUSLY blue and I am not just right, but so incredibly right. Indeed, Husband, you should watch out, because if you argue with me much more, ignoring my innate ability to be right, you shall be eating your own microwave meals for one.
Do you think that’s how the business got its name? Through the splitting of couples who argued their way to the divorce courts over the colour of Denby tableware? Scary! Yet completely understandable.
Have you ever had to argue black is white, or brown is blue? What’s the most ridiculous argument you’ve ever had with someone? Obviously you were right as you have sublime taste and sense of judgement to be reading my blog. How wrong can another person be?