So we stopped by a gas station today, and my husband asked me if I wanted anything from inside. I thought about it a moment, but couldn’t think of anything. “Are you getting something?”
“Yeah. A drink and some chips. I didn’t have time for lunch today.” At least he had the nerve to look guilty. He knows I hate when his skinny ass skips meals. I fear the day I’ll weigh more than him. Five four and I only weigh about ten pounds less than him, and he’s six foot two.
“I want a drink too then. Snapple something.”
He left me in the car and returned a bit later with a grocery bag crammed with stuff. A Dunkin’ Donuts bag sat on top. My husband’s a good guy. I forgot that I’d casually mentioned I wanted donuts yesterday.
I looked at the bag; the bag looked at me. I thought about my declining health. Then a tremor of excitement coursed through my body at the thought of sinking my teeth into a tasty treat. “Did you get a donut for me?”
“Yeah.” He avoided eye contact.
“Are you trying to ruin my weight loss plan?” I dug into the bag.
“No. I wanted a donut.”
“Oh…there’s one for you too?” I dug deeper. “Which one’s mine?”
“The cruller. I knew you’d complain if I didn’t get you one.” Poor guy, the words tumbled out of his mouth in a rush. “
“That’s true.” I pulled out mine and bit into it. To be honest, I don’t even know how he got his, my goodie entranced me so fully.
“And I wanted one. It was either go without or get you one too.” Such a wise man.
“Tastes sort of like a popover with glaze.”
“What’d you expect from gas station donuts?”
Didn’t stop me from eating it though. Yeah, I lack willpower, and apparently good manners. Cause I don’t recall saying thank you. #twitloss