But he doesn't. 

A couple of nights ago I was complaining about feeling like I was going to throw up.  It hovers right in my throat.  Frankly,  I haven't brushed my teeth in almost 4 months and I don't care.  Apparently he doesn't care because he gave me "The Look" the other night, right after I had gone on my daily tirade of "when am I going to feel better and I thought I would be beyond this by now."

K:  Excuse me?  I don't think so.
D:  I know, baby.  I'm not saying anything.  I know that this time you really mean it when you say you feel bad.

Crickets.

K:  I'm sorry.  What do you mean, "this time?"
D:  Well...I know that sometimes you say you are going to throw up to get out of having sex with me.  It's OK, because I know you mean it this time.

K:  (desperately trying to remember the code to the gun locker safe) You think I LIE TO YOU ABOUT BEING SICK?  THAT I JUST DO IT TO GET OUT OF DOING IT WITH YOU????  THAT I HAVE MADE UP MORNING/ALLDAY SICKNESS BECAUSE I CAN'T SAY NO TO YOU??? 
D:  Uh..............(not knowing when to quit) yeah?
K:  Maybe my error has been refraining from vomiting on you.  If I vomited directly on you, would you take my fake illness claims serious?
D:  Please don't.
K:  Well I think you should have thought about that BEFORE you accused me of lying.

I then asked him to hand me some Tums to combat my fake morning/allday/sickness/avoiding/sex/with/my/husband.  Tums are my friend.  I love Tums.  Tums are the only thing standing between me and American Standard (that reference is for you, Rachel).  And the man hands me a handful of Tums that include banana Tums.  Ever had a banana Tums?  With that lovely artificial banana flavor.  Banana is the one flavor that cannot and should not be reproduced in fake form.  It is vile. 

K:  You gotta take the banana Tums out of the container.  I can't even look at them without getting sick.

He started to laugh.  Like I was being unreasonable.  He complained that he couldn't tell the difference.   What with them being YELLOW and all.   He brought me two handfuls that he had sorted out.  One with an assortment and one handful of yellow.  I think he is trying to kill me.

I think he blew his brains on overeducation and just threw common sense out the window.  And now he gets to share the couch with the dog (and the banana Tums).