Yesterday was terrifying to me! Because of obligations I made I needed to take my wife sized units van. And because of her refusal to ride the neighbor’s dog like a horse, she took my car.
This alone would not worry me much. It’s a fact my small car is easier to park, far more nimble than the van, and wife sized unit is used to being unnoticed by larger lumbering predators, so she knows when and how to move.
The problem comes from her health kick. Now that we are in our forties, and unfortunately know better. Mixed with her desire to live as long and as well as possible there are some food items that are no longer allowed in our house.
I miss chips, I miss pretzels, I miss all my copious amounts of red meat. But the single largest loss to me: doughnuts.
I brought some home once, and explained to my wife sized unit that they were healthy! I asked the woman behind the counter if they were free range, antibiotic and hormone free doughnuts. I took that confused face she made as meaning all doughnuts are that way. Hence these are healthy doughnuts.
Wife sized unit did not see it that way, and forbid doughnuts from the house.
In a single declaration I became an outlaw. I was forced to smuggle my round pieces of heaven into the house. Most times she would not catch me. Every now and again I would find my smuggled round beauties with bit marks, or gone all together.
I was not sure if it was the wife sized unit or the teen age son that found and decimated my stash. Really there was no way to find out. After all anytime you open with “Who ate the food items I smuggles in against the wife and Dr’s orders?” you never get that question answered!
I have been forced to hide my stash in the car now.
While driving her van to my contract job I reached under the driver’s seat, to suddenly realize when I exchanged Keys I forgot to move my stash. I don’t know what fresh hell was under her seat, but I knew that my beloved breakfast feasts were under the seat of the car she was driving. They would make themselves known when she moved the seat (at 4’10” she can’t use the same position that her 6’2” husband does). Even if somehow she missed the package, the doughnuts will end up making my car smell like doughnuts when the sun comes out.
I waited all night for the inevitable fall out of her discovery, but somehow she missed my little beauties. This maybe the first time I was glad she failed to return the seat to where I keep it. My precious survived, undetected.
My wife is losing her touch, although I suspect the Novocaine the Dentist gave her was a factor.