A Cautionary Tale

This is for everyone who  lives with  a soaper,  is married to  a soaper, or is dating a soaper-

Soaper supporters BEWARE.


I come home from my work  day of much  less interesting things, an I SEE it.  The big bowl  of whipped pink heaven,  with  the spoon in  it, daring me to  consume its  contents.







As I reach  for the spoon, I see its sister!

Another bowl,  calling my name it says in  the lilting voice  “me first  Watson, I left the spoon  right here for you!”









My mouth  waters,  my hand shakes.  What has she created in  my absence? Will  I dream  about this desert as I have dreamed about so  many others? What layers of fruit and flavor await my palate?

Suddenly,  the alarm goes off in  the back of my head.  I ignore it.

It persists. I ignore it again  and lift the spoon to my mouth.

As my eyes are about to  roll back  into  my head I see it.

I stop.  The spoon to  my lips.

There is was:






The proof that if I had indeed eaten the bowl  of whipped wonder in  front of me.

Well,  we would have run  out of  toilet paper.

Foiled again .

You win  Sherlock.







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