Death, Divorce, and Frozen Yogurt

Maple frozen yogurt with pecans and dark chocolate chunks.

Just thought I'd say that out loud.

It's been torturing me. Now that it's out, I'm free.

FREE TO GO TO SUB ZERO AND BUY A MAPLE FROZEN YOGURT WITH PECANS AND DARK CHOCOLATE CHUNKS. EVEN IN THE FACE OF ENDLESS AND SINISTERLY MOVING ROAD CONSTRUCTION BETWEEN HERE AND THERE.

Because, I'm worth it.

Also because I run on Mondays, Wednesdays, Fridays and many Saturdays, and lift weights on Tuesdays and Thursdays and the other Saturdays. Sometimes. I have a muscle to prove it. So I could totally go out and take care of the yogurt-craving-thing.

But,

I just offered to go get some for my husband–end of a long day and all–to disguise my own purchase of the delightful confection. His answer? "No, I'm okay. We'll save the money."

Dang.

The ole "We'll save the money" defense. Right in my face. Right in my craving.

I'm going to die.

I leave this blog to Bloomsbury Press to publish in my post mortem absence. 

Also, once my husband's and my assets are divided amongst our children following our YOGURT DEPRIVATION-INDUCED DIVORCE, I would like someone to send him a little reminder note of how he brought about the fall of our marriage and my life with his little act of "We'll save the money."

The end.

*weep*

I can't take it. I just can't take it.