{Disclaimer: Viewer Discretion is Advised}
First, let me just say… There is NOTHING like the yummy goodness of a warm slice of lemon loaf from Starbucks. (after approximately 7 to 8 seconds in the microwave– right before the icing melts!)
Well, I purchased a slice while out and brought it home for entertainment purposes only! I ate 1/4 of it, smiled, gingerly placed it on my night stand, and took a nap! The hubs (who was entranced by college football and had barely even noticed me enter the house) could care less about my lemon loaf as he’s more of a… death by chocolate kinda’ guy! (the more chocolate piled on top of chocolate and/or fudge, the better– I like to call his dessert choices “a stomach ache waiting to happen”.)
So imagine the sheer and utter horror when I wake up from my nap, ripe and ready for my sweet treat, and I can’t find it, anywhere. I silently search in random places that I know it couldn’t possibly be– just for safe measure. Nope, NO lemon loaf in sight. I check CoCo for signs of lemon, loaf, and/or paper packaging — Nope, he’s clean.
After what felt like hours, (and probably was actually 5 minutes), I ask the hubs if he’s seen it. He nonchalantly replies– Nope (eyes glued to the TV). So I continued searching. Now, I’m starting to freak out because I really had my heart set on eating the rest of my loaf!
I return to the hubs, with panic on my face and scream, “WHERE IS MY LEMON LOAF!” (with sweat on my brow)
He: (calmly) Did you check to see if it fell– maybe under the bed?
Me: Check for me. (At this very moment– deep in my heart of hearts, I knew he ate it, but I just knew better. He would NEVER eat something that didn’t belong to him and destroy the evidence. Right?)
He: (Looking under the bed) I can’t see.
Me: Grab your phone and use your flashlight. (Reality setting it, now I’m steaming)
He: I still don’t see it!
Me: YOU ATE IT! (screaming like an overgrown toddler) And you helped me look for it, knowing that you ATE IT! (full on tantrum commencing in 3, 2,…)
He: I ate it! I can get you another one.
Me: You are a terrible person! I don’t want another one. I want the one that you stole. You owe me an apology and a vanilla milkshake from Chik-Fil-A! (dead serious)
He: I’m sorry babe; I’ll get you another dessert! (maintaining low tones)
Me: YES…You will! Did you not think I’d notice? What is the matter with you? (I’m inconsolable at this point)
He: Relax.
Me: I CAN’T RELAX! I married a MONSTER!
He: You’re absolutely ridiculous! I’ll be back! (leaves to get the shake)
Me: Am I? (fire in my eyes)
In hindsight: I can admit that I lost control, and even upon his return with the shake, I couldn’t speak to him for the rest of the day (other than monosyllabic responses)! I drank the shake, but still dreamed of my warmed lemon loaf! (The shake did nothing for me)
In my defense: Who does that? I’m 100% sure he didn’t even savor it. I visualize him just chucking it down like a crazed maniac. I felt that his lemon loaf theft and shameless cover-up was a personal attack on my life! A stolen 3/4 of lemon loaf ruined me… and I’m not proud of it!
Confession is freeing!
