I knew it… I knew it… I knew it.
I just knew that one day there would be an article, or a study that would help hubby argue his case against me. I mistakenly stumbled on one when hubby was suspiciously sleeping through our screaming baby at night and claimed it was because he “didn’t hear him” (if you didn’t read that one just click HERE) and I knew it was only a matter of time before he could take to Google to find some obscure report that he could wave defiantly in my face as he danced around me singing… I told you so… I told you so…
And so folks, today (or well, more accurately last week) was that day.
Please let me explain.
If you’ve been reading for any length of time, you may know that cookies have somehow played an oddly, ever-present, role in our relationship.
You could start with the fact that when we began dating I referred to hubby as my “cookie”… and some of you may even remember one of my first blog posts that seemed to stir up a quite an internet debate from a few naysayers, about what a shitty person I am. When we debated the cookie vs cracker monikers that I bestowed upon my boyfriends. (You can read this one HERE).
Then, there was the story of how cupid “shot an arrow through hubby’s stomach” as I baked him fresh chocolate chip cookies shortly after we met.
A while back hubby celebrated the day that DiGiorno added cookies to their pizza boxes….. as he happily declared “They’ve combined 2 of the best things in the world!”
You may recall a blog post where hubby, with utter abandonment, consumed every-single cookie in our cupboard as our snack battle escalated.
And then, there was the time where he demonstrated his true love for me by leaving one solitary cookie in the box, just so it would be there for me to eat (or for me to throw away the box – even today, months and months later, I’m still not sure which).
And lastly, not all that long ago… I shared a story about the 900 lb box of Oreo cookies hubby just had-to-have at Costco. Only to realize that the Costco version of Oreo’s are not, in fact, the double stuffed Oreos… and that regular Oreo’s do not, shockingly, have……. enough Stuff.
So this pretty much brings me to last week. Where somebody, somewhere, who obviously wants to torture me, or perhaps test the fiber of my marriage…… put out a study showing that Oreos are actually just as addictive as ……………ready for this (in case you live in a cave and missed it last week) ……………..COCAINE! (to read the full article click HERE or on the picture below)
Yes folks, the fantastic research analysts, just gave hubby the support info he needs to never, ever, save me another cookie for the rest of my life. Since he has a study to prove that he can’t possibly help himself…. He… Must. Eat. Every. Cookie. In. The Box. And, he will forever have evidence to throw at me to illustrate how it just couldn’t possibly be his fault that I get none.
Thank you research scientists. Thank you makers of Oreos. Thank you ever-so-much for giving hubby permission to say… “Sorry honey, the drugs made me do it”
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