"Matronize"

This morning my husband, Adam, comes in to the kitchen as I am making a pot of coffee and says, "You do love me. And you made coffee!" He is ridiculously happy to see me.

There is a bit more back and forth wherein he explains that he had a nightmare about monsters that made him sleep forever. He was ranting about they wouldn't let him wake up and that I didn't even look for them and "HOW could YOU just LET them do that to me?" Like any good wife, I ask him to describe them to me so that I don't make that mistake, ever again.

"They were two-dimensional, purple, and had one eye."

"Were they furry?"

"No. They were like cartoons."

"Where was the eye?"

"Look, Woman, don't matronize me! It was scary."

"I am not 'matronizing' you. I am -"

"YOU WERE GOING TO PUT ME IN A HOME!!!!"

"I wouldn't-"

"A HOME!"

Long pause.

"Honey, 'matronize' isn't a word."

"Shut up."