Sunday, April 25, 2010

I don't care if you don't care, I'm telling you anyway

Yesterday I had a hankering for some cake. (I love that phrase: "hankering for") Specifically, chocolate cupcakes.

So I went right to Costco, because I had a Costco-sized hankering.

Sadly, in what was clearly an effort to ruin my life, Costco did not have any cupcakes.

So we made do with red velvet cake. And now I am in the throes of  what I am almost positive is a red dye/corn syrup fueled headache. Not a migraine, just a headache. It's cramping my style. I'm blaming this on Costco too - no chocolate cupcakes, and an attempt to poison me with food coloring and refined sugars.
Dirty Bastards.

And I am right back where I started, craving a fucking chocolate cupcake. Is it SO HARD? It seems like a simple request. But no. No cupcakes.

My husband has come to the rescue - he is the one who feeds my food cravings. As I type this, he is out wandering the aisles of the grocery store in search of ice cream "that has good stuff in it." He is a very sweet man, but this is also self-preservation. Life will be much nicer in Casa Daffodil if he brings me back a pint of something yummy that will help me forget my lack of cupcakes.

When I was pregnant, he would arrive home every evening with 2 donuts. Once, he forgot....and when he walked in the door I threw my arm over the back of the sofa - not bothering to get up, mind you - and wiggled my fingers in anticipation of that waxed paper bag of goodness. All he said in response to my outstretched arm was "Fuck." and he turned and walked back out the door. He knew that showing up without donuts in the third trimester was like showing up for work in your pajamas. Nice that you made it in, but completely unacceptable.

(Incidentally, this is why I gained 80 pounds during my pregnancy. I lay on the sofa waiting for him to bring me Dunkin Donuts and McDonalds. My son gestated in a soup of Happy Meals and sprinkles.)

So while he is out trying to get my fix, I am going to lie here and think about all of the ways that Costco has failed me this weekend. Bastards.

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