I was so mad last night, blinding rage mad. And this anger was directed solely, squarely and directly at my husband. I had so much anger coursing through my veins that he is lucky to have made it through the evening. Here’s what happened…
I had just put the kids to bed and was reveling in the peace and quiet of that wonderful time of day. I enjoy saving a snack until this time because it is the only time that I can savor a treat without interruption. Now I just had to decide what I felt like eating…salty or sweet? The salty was going to be pretzels and the sweet was going to be sugar free Jell-O with a dollop of light cool whip—or at least that’s what it was supposed to be. Normally, I tend to steer towards the salty snacks as I don’t have a very big sweet tooth, but occasionally that sweet tooth kicks in and I need to satisfy it. Tonight was one of those nights. So, I knew I wanted sweet, but did I really want sugar-free Jell-O? I think not. By now, this little debate I was having with myself only made me want a serious, hardcore sweet. And that’s when I remembered it…
On Saturday I had bought three chocolate bars for a fundraiser at my son’s basketball game—one bar for each child. Two of them got theirs right away and proceeded to eat every last bite right in front of me. Not even the smallest of bites was offered to me, but that’s okay. I’M ON A DIET. I put my son’s candy in my purse fully intending to give it to him after his game was over. Well, things got busy after the game as they usually do on a Saturday, and I forgot to give it to him. It just sat there in my purse forgotten and untouched. Until last night.
Of course, remembering that that sweet, sensuous morsel was sitting in my purse only sparked another debate with myself…do I really want to be bad and devour all that chocolaty goodness, or do I want to be good and stick with the Jell-O? After several minutes of debate, a decision was made…I wanted to be bad. It was thrilling! I was going to sit there in the peace and quiet of my family room and watch my television shows while savoring every last bite of that chocolaty goodness.
I went to the kitchen to get my purse and opened it up with great anticipation. I put my hand in there and searched for that forbidden fruit(?). I couldn’t put my hand on it so I stuck my face in there for a better look--still no luck. A little flutter of panic started to run through my body, but I told myself to take it easy. It’s in there. I know it is. So I started feverishly emptying everything in my purse onto the counter…no candy bar. WHAT?! Where was it? Nobody knew it was in there but me. And then I remembered…my husband went into my purse to get my car keys. That #$%&*!@!!! HE STOLE MY CANDY BAR!!!
This is the part where I came as close as I probably ever will to actually killing him. How dare he? He ate my candy bar (yes, I know it was really my son’s…that’s not the point). The point is he denied me that sweet, chocolaty nirvana…and that could easily have gotten him killed.
But after several minutes of trying to decide exactly how to off him ,I realized that he had actually done me a favor. Did I want that candy bar for myself? HELL, YEAH!! Did I need it? HELL, NO. He saved me from making a choice that I know I would have regretted immediately after swallowing that last glorious bite. For that, I owe him thanks, even though he didn’t do it because he loves me. He just wanted my candy bar!