My Wife is Trying to Kill Me!

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My wife is trying to kill me!  And her choice of murder weapon is quite devious.  A couple of years ago, my daughter and I gave my wife, as a gift, a KitchenAid mixer, which apparently is the gold standard in the world of home mixers.  This appliance is quite remarkable, and has empowered my wife to whip up desserts previously unimaginable in our household.  As any do-it-yourself-er can vouch, half the battle is access to the proper tools.  This KitchenAid mixer is clearly the proper tool.

Well, my wife has taken to scouring dozens of websites devoted to making fancy desserts, and has become quite prolific in her dessert production.  My pleas of, “It’s just me!” fall on deaf ears, as she marches forward producing chocolate this, and lemon that, in batches large enough to feed a high school football team.  The timing of our gift was a bit off, as this sweet bounty would have been quite welcome years ago, when my healthy appetite was well-armed to do battle with three young children at mealtime (and also at between-mealtime).

But now, with our three children grown and living elsewhere, it’s just me!  And my appetite ain’t what it used to be, although you couldn’t tell that by my continued battle with weight-gain.  My nature doesn’t allow me to waste food in any form.  I have been known to scarf down several remaining pieces of a tasty dessert, simply because they have been threatened with disposal, having lingered in our refrigerator for a couple of days.  Not an attractive quality, I know.  I have also dragged desserts into the office to share with appreciative colleagues, who only encourage my wife, with suggestions to, “Send more chocolate!”

Alas, I fear I am doomed, because my aversion to waste is unlikely to change any time soon, and my wife’s desire to experiment with high-caloric treats is only likely to increase.  Those two dynamics, when combined, have an explosive impact on my waistline and my general health, subjecting me to all sorts of negative health consequences: diabetes, high blood pressure, and heart disease.  As you can see, my wife is trying to kill me!  But, what a way to go.

Thanks,

B.S.

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