This morning, after he left for work, I open the fridge and...
THEY WERE GONE!
I rifled through the whole fridge, and they were, indeed, gone. That husband of mine stole them while I was sleeping, that commie. Thought he was being sooooo funny. It was a little funny, but I was mostly mad because I don't think I can get any Tagalongs any more, and not only did he steal them, but he would probably eat them, and because they are so delicious, he would probably eat them ALL.
I started by texting him: Where r my cookies!?
Then there was the following email exchange:
Me: Subject: You Rat Bastard. This house is a very dangerous place for you. I wouldn't come home at all unless you have my cookies, and flowers, and hamburgers, punk.
Me (again): God, I hate you.
Him: i forgot all about the cookies! i was expecting you to look for them for
dessert last night. i wasn't going to leave you hanging for too long, just
for a minute. they're in the right-hand crisper drawer under the brussels
sprouts. : )
Him (again): now, now...see what happens when you give up caffeine in the morning.
Me: You dodged a bullet there mister. I was already plotting my revenge. I had some good ideas too, but Leila kept vetoing them because she thought they were too mean. I thought I ripped the fridge apart looking for them, but I guess I was blind with rage. You like to skate on thin ice, don't you? That's no way to behave when your birthday is coming up!
Him: i'm not sure i want to know what your ideas were. i'm sure they were
proportional to the temporary concealment of $2 worth of cookies. ; ) Is my
guitar still in one piece? BTW, why were you looking for cookies at 7:30 in
Me: Why do you think I was looking for cookies at 7:30 in the morning? I WANTED TO EAT SOME! Your guitar is in one piece, but it was touch and go there for a while. Leila nixed the idea of hiding it at a neighbors house until you gave me back my cookies, but that's what I was going to go with unless I thought of something better. And its $4 worth of cookies. But it tastes like $100 worth of cookies.
My precious cookies were indeed under the brussels sprouts, safe and sound, and Rob will live another day. Phew, that was close.
I don't think he realized that you almost killed him.
I would have, too. Cookies are sacred.
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