A Coffee Interlude

Last night, I had been hoping to go to my Mistress's munch, which is always a great event, mainly because my Mistress makes it so. I may not have an objective opinion, I admit, but my Mistress runs a great munch.
(It's also one of the longest-running munches in the entire world. You can read more about it here.)
The munch always starts at 8:00.
Husband came home from work around 6:00, said his hellos to the family...and promptly fell asleep.
I was pissed. So pissed, in fact, I didn't even want to polish his toes. That says something.
(Probably not what I had in mind, but something.)

He woke up at 9:00, feeling all Masteroftheuniversy, and raring to go.
I, meanwhile, was sitting on the couch, watching TV, and wanting none of what he was after.
But that's the thing about an M/s relationship: my wants don't account for much.

"Get upstairs," he ordered me, "and get naked."
I sighed and turned off the TV. "Really, Husband? Really?"
"Yes, really. Go upstairs and get naked."
"Fine. Just...fine." I got up and walked out of the room, but instead of heading up the stairs, I turned left, into the kitchen.
From behind me, I heard, "Where are you going, Wife?"
"I forgot to do something," I called back.
"Whatever you forgot, you can do it later. Get upstairs."
"It'll take me five minutes."
"No. Go upstairs and get naked."
"Will you just give me a sec—"
"NO. GET UPSTAIRS AND GET NAKED."
I turned around and found him right behind me. "Husband," I said calmly, "I forgot to set the coffee machine for tomorrow morning."
He paused. "FIVE MINUTES TO SET THE COFFEE. AND THEN GO UPSTAIRS AND GET NAKED."
Priorities, people. Priorities.