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.