Sunday, April 09, 2006

Jack Sprat

Tonight I couldn't be satisfied. In spite of a perfectly acceptable dinner consisting of chicken kabobs, green beans with garlic, and fruit salad, I was starving. Pawing through the cupboards kind of starving. Offering my four year old Tostitos so that I could eat them too kind of starving.

As soon as the bedtime stories were finished, I poured a bowl of Frosted Flakes and ate them in bed. My husband, across the hall in L.'s room attempting to settle her for sleep, later said he could hear my spoon clanging against the bowl. When he finally got her to go to sleep, I begged him to go to the local diner to get take-out pie.

Instead, my kind and generous husband found the last two chocolate chip cookies in the house and layered vanilla ice cream in between. He brought me the offering, and I ate it lying in bed. As he kept telling me he was hungry, too, I kept offering him bites of my scrumptious cookie and ice cream sandwich. He refused, and got himself...a salad.

2 comments:

Amy said...

Oh Uncle D. A salad. That was terribly mean. I would have gotten you the salad.

Methinks you need to keep more Little Debbie Swiss Cakes in your house.

Amy said...

I meant to say I would have gotten you the PIE! Whoops. Sorry!