Me: Here. I'm done.
SH: But there are some black spots!
Me: So? It's roughage. Eat it.
SH: I don't want to eat it. You're supposed to cut the bad parts out for me.
Me: No, I'm not. You can cut the bad spots out yourself.
SH: But you're the pear cutter in the house.
Me: I did cut the pear for you and it was a favor, not a responsibility.
SH: But you're supposed to cater to my wishes. I'm used to having my fruit cut up for me.
Me: No, I'm not. Just because you were raised by someone who overcatered to you doesn't mean I am going to.
[NB This is usually where I say something stronger, like, "Just because your mother thinks the sun shines out of your - you know - doesn't mean I do." But I didn't. Even though that is the case. That SH's mother thinks the sun shines - well, etc. SH can do no wrong in her eyes and I am the evil temptress who steals his love away from her because love is a zero-sum game. That's a different story, though. Also part of this equation is the fact that SH's parents peel every piece of fruit they eat. But they do not own a potato peeler. Just a paring knife that hasn't been sharpened in - well, ever.]
SH: That's how it's supposed to be!
Me: Funny. I don't recall hearing that in our wedding vows.