Marriage Monday: My Piece of the Pie...or Cake...or Doughnuts

**I wrote this last week looking forward to springing it on you sharing it with you today.**

I woke up this morning and stumbled into the kitchen to the coffee maker. As that wonderful elixir was percolating I started searching for my breakfast. Last night, Hubby had brought home two bags of those little chocolate “wax” Donettes from the store. I call this a “faux food” because I’m not really sure how much of it is synthetic and how much is good old fashion flour, sugar and eggs. And yet…I wanted some. I knew that, as a family, we had been munching on them a bit last night as we were up a little late, but I also knew there was at least one whole bag left on the kitchen counter when I went to bed. (can you see where this is going?)

I searched and searched to find those little waxy wonders and finally struck gold in the LIVING ROOM??! On a side table where dh normally sits there sat the bag…with about half of the contents missing! Now where could they have gone you ask? Ha! After living with this man for so many years I knew exactly where they were and how they got there.

I could go on, but I thought he’d perhaps want to offer his own defense…uh, version…uh…well, here are his thoughts. From his lips to my keyboard.

“As is my usual desire to keep my wife’s figure and health in check (per her wishes) I strive to reduce and eliminate temptations that might overpower her in times of weakness. Please realize this is purely selfless on my part as she has expressed on countless occasions over our 20 years of marriage, her hope to regain/maintain her youthful figure. I feel it is my duty as her provider and protector to shield her from her own self-destructive ways.

With her well being in mind, years ago I implemented a policy in our home that I like to call “Proportionate Portions” and I apply it specifically and religiously to desserts. You see…I myself being 6’2”, with a meaty Schwarzenegger like physique *cough* (with some “bonus” marbling that has been added over the years, *cough* *cough*) feel that a 2/3 for me and 1/3 for her ratio is an appropriate portioning computation. Of course my bride hasn’t always agreed with this line of thinking, (she’s never been good with numbers) but I assure her it is for her own good. I have only her best interests in mind when, at 2:30 in the morning, I rouse myself from peaceful slumber, drag myself to the kitchen, rummage through the cabinets, stumble into the living room and begin ridding our home of any pernicious pies, devastating donuts, capillary clogging cupcakes or other evil edibles that might cause her to stumble. It’s a matter of self-sacrifice to me. It’s chivalry reborn. I’m taking one for the team. Why can’t she see this?”


All right readers…care to comment?