I never thought of myself as a food person. A “food person” being a person who turns to food to help her get past her trials and tribulations in her life.
Then I realized that if I don’t get something sweet after dinner (before bed), I am slightly cranky. OK, I’m always cranky. What I mean is, I’m crankier than normal. In order to combat this, I brought home those cupcakes I made for Amy’s birthday. How cheap is that? I made her cupcakes and then, when no one was looking because I had sufficiently gotten them all hammered with Kristen’s Famous Margaritas, I quickly, quietly and rather stealthily packed away the rest of the cupcakes at the bottom of the box I was taking home.
No one was the wiser, including my own family. This truly was a coup since they were dark chocolate cupcakes with only a smidgen of sugar. My husband would have LOVED them, had he known of their existence.
I got home from dinner at The Neighbor’s house last night and I thought I was all clever. I put everyone to bed and then did the low-crawl down the stairs to get my “sweet fix” for the night.
No cupcakes. No cupcake container. The counter was mysteriously empty.
the. counter. was. mysteriously. empty.
As in, a large patch of it was really, really clean. I almost ran back up the stairs to ask my husband where the container was. I mean, if he was rude enough to eat 5 cupcakes, he had better fess up to the trash. But then the lightbulb came on…
Slowly, oh, so very slowly, I walked around the corner and looked at the dog bed. There was the red container, with the top neatly to the side. The dog had taken my container, eaten every single one of my cupcakes and left the evidence on his bed. To say that I went apoplectic would be to underestimate my reaction. First the ribeyes, then the muffins/bagels and now this. $9 worth of dark chocolate in that recipe. I ran up the stairs and stormed into the bedroom.
K: YOUR DOG ate 5 chocolate cupcakes.
D: Oh, no.
K: Is there any chance that eating 5 chocolate cupcakes can K-I-L-L him?
D: We should probably put him in the garage tonight in case he gets sick.
K: No, I mean, is there any way that eating my cupcakes can actually cause him to die?
D: I don’t think so. I think maybe he’ll just get a little sick.
K: Damn. I guess I’m just going to have to run him over with the car.
When I swore “for better or worse,” I had no idea how bad “worse” was going to be. Somebody had better take my keys away. I’m not joking.