(Husband) Daisy is Evil

I'm on our old computer that just took almost a half an hour to load up everything.  I wonder how much time we wasted just getting to our e-mail alone.  Daisy could have spent her time getting her Masters Degree in........um........I don't know..............like..........awesomeness?  Whatever.  Anyway, she is using our good computer to watch Parenthood, which I guess is a good show for thirty something parents.  Now that I think about it, there was a show when I was young called thirty something.  We are at an interesting age.  But that is not why Daisy is evil.  She is evil for so many more reasons than I can mention but this is one of them.  She makes cookies that are very good.  Now I purposely stayed away from the, "My wife makes the best cookies ever!!! You have not tasted a cookie until you have tasted hers.  Your wife, mother, sister, or daughter would burn their recipes and hang their heads in shame if they were to even smell the cookies from a half a mile away."  I stayed away from saying it because it is annoying.  But I have to be honest, I can't think of many I like better.  We went through many recipe's over a number of years until we found the recipe we have now.   We figured out if we took the cookies out when they were hot dough they would turn out really well when they cooled down.  That way, we could eat the fresh dough, hot dough, and then the baked dough that has cooled. 

I will try to eat the dough when she is mixing it and then when she is putting it on the baking sheet and then when they are in the oven, out of the oven, on the cooling tray, and then the finished product.  I will eat roughly ten of them and then feel sick to my stomach.  The next day I will not have learned my lesson and will eat some for breakfast and pack some for lunch, a snack when I get home and for dessert after dinner.  I will hide them from the children by eating them when they are playing.  If I need to come out for any reason I will hide it behind my back or leave it in the kitchen with a napkin over it.  If they see any kind of movement in my mouth that looks like anything related to a chewing motion they will ask what I am eating.  I won't lie but we will share a cookie together like a big happy family.  I will give them each a quarter and I will get a half.  When they protest I will trump them by saying daddy is bigger.  I will then tell them I don't need them on any kind of sugar rush.  Today I came home and there were three cookies left.  A good husband would name them Daisy, Beast, and Fire.  I had Daisy's because I knew she would understand.  But the other two have been screaming at me from inside their little Tupperware container.  Taunting me like a little schoolgirl.  Pulling my pigtails and sing songing, "You can't get me!" Flapping their hands while sticking their their thumbs in their ears." 

I hate those cookies.  Hate them.  And I know that I shouldn't think this but they really are the spawn of Satan.  Now you say, "Goose.  That is raising your hate to a while 'nother level.  And it sounds like you are calling your wife Satan."  I'm not saying she is Satan but perhaps she is possessed by him during the time she is making them.  All I know is that once the last two are eaten I will want more.  And Daisy will make excuses not to make more just to increase my temptations.  And I will curse her.  And when she suggests I can make them, "your own damn self" I will give a short chuckle and say back, "You'd like that wouldn't you." and go off to sulk.  It's just a bad cycle and she is to blame.  And that is all I have to say about that.