The man I married came in very early this morning and told me not to eat the bread. I was still asleep and agreed that I wouldn't if that was what he wanted.
After a few minutes, I wondered why he cared about the bread. I still had half a loaf, didn't I? If I was running low on bread, I would have time before he got home from work to run to the store and buy more bread. Why couldn't I eat the bread?
All this wondering woke me up, so I straggled into the kitchen to give him what for about being so darned possessive of the bread.
Well, it turns out that he was just concerned that my "yuck" factor would come into play when I found out that our dear dog had decided to have himself a little midnight snack.Now, you remember that Ed was supposed to be a Maltipoo - a little 10 pound thing. Let me tell you, Ed ain't no Maltipoo! He's cute and white like a Maltipoo, but he's twice the size of a Maltipoo. He's a Maltipoo on steroids.
It seems that Ed has finally grown enough to reach far enough onto the counter so that he can get food - namely my quite expensive, specialty shop, delicious and still more than 3/4 left of a loaf butterscotch walnut bread!
I'd been making the kids take teeny slices so that it would last longer; but it looks like Ed couldn't reach the knives, so he just dug right in. If the man I married hadn't told me, I would have thought that the kids had gone bread crazy. The bag wasn't even ripped, just torn open a little. Considerate Ed doesn't like to leave a mess. Maybe he thought I wouldn't notice?
Anyway, now we don't have any fancy cakey bread to snack on, and Ed isn't hungry for dog food. When the doggie boarding place asked if we were having any problems with our dog, I didn't mention the bread thing. As long as they don't have any expensive butterscotch walnut bread out, we should be fine.