The 11th Commandment and 10 Years
If you’re looking for writing news today, go check out Konrath’s post on Patterson. I’d like to stand up and cheer because, for once, I actually agree with Konrath on pretty much every point. He said it well, so I don’t feel the need to add my 2 cents.
No, today, I want to talk about the little known 11th Commandment. This has come up in our house this week. My spouse, due to his lack of ignorance, has broken this commandment TWICE. And in the name of protecting relationship bliss everywhere, I felt the need to educate.
I keep an emergency supply of chocolate at home. Generally this is reserved for, ahem, a particular hormonal week a month. PMS totally constitutes an emergency. As this is also the week I determined to get back on the calorie counting band wagon, I prepared with one of those 6 packs of mini Hershey bars. Individually wrapped and only 90 calories apiece. Responsible craving indulgence.
Except Wednesday, when I got home from work and went to get one, the entire package was GONE. I found a sliver of wrapper on the side table in the living room, right by hubby’s seat. At which point I informed him that he was not welcome to come home at all if he was not bearing chocolate. A jury of my peers would never convict me for kicking his fanny for such an offense.
He came home with a big Hershey bar and a bottle of chocolate wine. Okay, this was an acceptable restitution.
So last night was boy’s night. I had some quiet time, and after I finished my words, I rewarded myself with the first episode of season 3 of Downton Abbey (mistake to watch right before bed–I was so excited I couldn’t fall asleep). I opened up my Hershey bar, broke off part, put the rest in a ziplock bag (aren’t you impressed with my restraint?), and put it back in the cabinet with the baking supplies.
This morning when I woke up, the rest of it was gone. Again. The empty ziplock bag back on the side table by his seat (seriously, his habit of not tossing his garbage is really getting him in trouble–evidence in plain sight!). When confronted, he said, “But I’ll replace it! You weren’t going to eat it this morning!”
I might have. That’s not the point. The point is, the little known 11th Commandment is:
Thou shalt not eat the emergency chocolate supply of a woman with PMS if thy values thy life.
Truly, this is a public service announcement. Inform the men in your life, lest they, too, make this egregious mistake.
I still had a square of Ghiradelli in my office desk drawer when I got to work, so crisis is averted. And he sent me these for our wedding anniversary today, so I suppose I won’t be committing hubbycide after all. Love you, Baby. Thanks for 10 wonderful years! And paws off my chocolate!