Genius brought us a tin of homemade cookies for Christmas. It contained chocolate chip, snickerdoodles, and a new kind that were chocolate with a dusting of powdered sugar. I tried one Christmas evening, and told Genius the next day at the casino how much I liked the chocolate cookie. He said, "Oh, that's the one I was worried about. It's the first time I made them." Farmer H also chimed in and said he liked the chocolate cookie.
Anyhoo... it's been a couple weeks now since Genius brought us the cookies. I tried all three kinds, having one at night, though not every night. The chocolate was still my favorite. A few days ago, I last had a chocolate chip. There were several snickerdoodles left, and two more chocolate chip, and a lone chocolate cookie. The fattest chocolate cookie. Which I was saving for Tuesday night after some Turkey Pot Pie.
Farmer H was home before me on Tuesday afternoon. When I returned, he carried in a box of groceries from T-Hoe. No mousey treats left out there to temp the vermin! I asked Farmer H (a different kind of rat, it turns out) if he wanted a Wild Turkey and Shasta Zero Sugar, and a snack. He said he did.
I took Farmer H his drink, and was preparing to slice some summer sausage and Oberle Cheese. But Farmer H said he'd just have some crunchy honey/BBQ twisty snacks from a bag.
"Oh. I see a plate there. Did you already have a snack before I got home?"
"Well. Yeah."
"What did you have?"
"A cookie."
"What kind of cookie?"
"One of them Genius brought us."
"Which kind?"
"One of them white ones."
"NOO! The CHOCOLATE? With the powdered sugar?"
"Yeah. It was good."
"There was only ONE LEFT! I was saving it for myself!"
"Oh. Sorry. I didn't know that. I hadn't tried that kind."
"You did too! You even told Genius you liked it! I can't believe you ate my cookie! It's just like the snickerdoodle! I can't have anything around here! And why did you use a plate for just one cookie? I bet you had something else, too!"
"Well. I ate some of them marshmallows that he put in there..."
"To keep the cookies fresh!"
"Yeah. But they're good to eat, and I wanted them. And I might have had another cookie, too."
"You MIGHT have? Like you can't remember? What kind MIGHT you have had?"
"Chocolate chip."
"I'm pretty sure you had other stuff too. Probably some of your Payday Mix off the cutting block. And funny how you didn't have a snickerdoodle. Since that's what you just HAD to have that year I was saving it for myself."
Farmer H is like a heat-seeking missile, if you consider his appetite the missile, and whatever random treat I'm saving for myself as the heat.
When it comes to saving a certain cookie for yourself you NEED to hide them!! There must be a place in the kitchen (or the house) where Farmer H never goes, where you can hide things like the last chocolate cookie. Did you tell him you were saving it for yourself?
ReplyDeleteRiver,
DeleteRemember joeh, my old blog buddy, who said his wife would hide treats under a kitchen towel? That might work. But my technique I learned from a former teaching buddy, who would wrap it in crinkly foil and stick it in the back of the fridge. She saved a chocolate easter bunny well into June that way!
Anyhoo... I did NOT tell Farmer H that I was saving that chocolate cookie for myself. It would have made it 10X more desirable for him!!! Besides, he had not eaten any of Genius's cookies since Christmas day. He was busy eating leftover Oreo Cake, and Payday Mix, and ice cream Drumsticks, and chocolates from a giant box given to him at Christmas. I had no idea he would suddenly decide to get treats out of Genius's cookie tin.
Have you learned nothing all this time you've been married to this man? I hide my stuff! If we had a dishwasher, I could hide things in it. He would never try to put clean stuff away and he would never finish loading it to run it! Now I use the washer or dryer since he does not know how to use them.
ReplyDeleteKathy,
DeleteI learn some new things every week that irk me! Since I don't have a dishwasher either, that is out. Farmer H DOES use the washer and dryer, because of his bad behavior early in our marriage when he refused to pick up his dirty work clothes off the bedroom floor. Every few months, I ask him how THAT has been working out for him, heh, heh. He declares he doesn't remember that.