Sending It Back

My sandwich came on toasted rye; The toast was overdone. Without much thought, I sent it back To get a different one. My husband said had it been his, He surely would have kept it, Implying that it was My obligation to accept it. Perhaps I should have mentioned That I like my toast real light, But serving some approaching burnt Seemed far from close to right. When paying money for a meal, The least that I expect Is to be presented with a plate I won’t need to reject.