My Husband's Priorities Are Skewed

So, my dearest husband and I went out for dinner one Saturday night and Rob was delighted that the restaurant finally had his favourite dish on the menu - Chana Masala (my spelling may be off) and he was even happier that he had leftovers to bring home. He parked in the driveway as usual, and I climbed out the car. I had to step back to close the car door and at that point I tripped backwards over a bunch of logs (for a project that Grady was eventually going to work on, yeah right) that were beside the driveway. Down I went, Rob said in slow motion, but what does he know. I badly scraped my legs and arms, but luckily, I fell into a tree which slowed my descent before I bounced my head off a rock. As I'm lying there, half in the driveway and half in the front garden, slowly assessing if I had any broken bones (fortunately no) or a concussion (probably), Rob, full of concern hissed at me to hurry and get up because "it was embarrassing". From my prone position I needed help to get up on my feet. Rob halfheartedly extended one arm. I asked for his other arm as well, but he refused, so I very inelegantly struggled to my bleeding and bruised knees and finally on to my feet. I looked over at Rob's other hand, the one he was unwilling to extend to me - why you may ask ? Because he was clutching his fucking leftovers.