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.