We literally have this conversation at least once a week:
Him: I am tired of making all the decisions. You pick something for a change. (He knows what he wants, he just doesn't want to tell me).
Me: I don't care. (Truly don't care).
Him: Seriously. Italian or Mexican. I made it easy. Pick one. (This is a test. He really wants to eat one of these things. He does not want to eat the other. He just wants me to...guess? be psychic? be so in tune with him that I want what he wants? I don't know.)
Me: Either one. Whichever you want. I know you have a preference, and I don't. (Still don't care. Also very over this game that I NEVER win).
Him: Just make a damn decision. I don't have a preference. I don't care. (He is totally lying).
Me: Italian, then. (I give up.)
Him: God, no, that sounds awful. (You lose. AGAIN!)
Being married is so AWESOME sometimes!