Farmer H Takes The Cake

Having survived 35 years of marriage to Farmer H, you'd think I would know better. Better than to tell him something, and expect him to follow through. I know he's not a rocket scientist (unless it would involve putting the parts of a rocket together and making it work), and he's not one to pay attention and do as I tell him. So I was setting myself up for failure from the get-go.

We had a big selection of store-bought desserts for Thanksgiving dinner. Farmer H had said he would like a cherry pie. I DID look for one, but all I found were pumpkin and pecan. That's not counting the freezer section, because he knew I didn't want to cook an actual pie in the oven.

Anyhoo... I found a Cherry Pie Danish that I got for him, in a long pan, to be sliced and eaten. He had a piece of it after finishing his plate of real food.

Other desserts were six triple-chocolate brownies that I bought for The Pony to take home. I think the package said "two-bite" brownies. They looked good. I got The Pony something like that last holiday dinner, and he liked them. As Farmer H was looking over the desserts, I specifically said, "I got those brownies for The Pony." Same as I had said when he carried the desserts in from T-Hoe. 

What do you think Farmer H did? That's right! He opened those brownies and ate one! While standing right there with the knife in his hand for slicing his Cherry Pie Danish. To his credit, The Pony said, "That's okay. I don't mind." Oh, and Farmer H ate the brownie in ONE bite.

Other desserts were a selection of mini donuts. Chocolate, powdered, and cinnamon. A dozen mini cupcakes, with vanilla and chocolate. And a triple chocolate cake. It looked like a Bundt cake, but without the ridges. Just a ring of a chocolate cake, with chocolate icing, and mini chocolate chips on top.

That triple chocolate cake is the bone of contention. As The Pony was packing up leftovers, I sliced up half the cake to go. They were thin slices, to lay down in the flat container. The last two wouldn't fit, and I thought, "Oh. That's a good size for me to have, since I've been cutting back. A thin slice of cake won't hurt. It's the holiday."

Later that evening, I asked Farmer H if he was still full, or if he wanted some leftovers. He said he thought he'd just have more dessert. Something he can do on his own, which I don't need to warm up.

"Okay. Have whatever you want. I have two thin slices of that cake already cut, that I'm going to eat for the next couple of days. You can slice whatever size you want."

I was in the bathroom while Farmer H was getting his desserts. Then I started washing up all the dishes on the counter. Then I had more computer time. Around 10:30, I shut down HIPPIE to go watch TV. I got a little bowl to put my thin slice of cake in. When I pried off the clear cover of the cake, I could not find my slices! But you knew that already, didn't you?

I turned that cake all around. Maybe the light was tricking me. Maybe the chocolate icing had run over the incisions I'd made in the cake. Nope. My thin slices were gone! BOTH of them! 

Yes. I realize I was free to make another thin slice of the cake. It's just the idea of it. I can't have one thing in this Mansion that is MINE. Just for me. Earmarked as my personal property. Farmer H always has to assert his dominance as King of the Mansion. He obviously didn't want a thin piece of cake. He took TWO thin pieces of cake, when he could have cut his own thick piece with the knife that was lying right there. But no. He had to take both of the pieces of cake that I said I wanted.

It's the principle of the matter.