Unforgettable

Luckily, my pregnancy has been very uneventful and the cravings have been non-existent.  I haven't even experienced being ravenous--until one day a few weeks ago.

The day before the "hunger incident" I had a big lunch so I wasn't hungry for dinner so I just ate a bowl of cereal.  The next day was a Saturday and I wanted to run some errands, so I got up and ate a bowl of cereal and headed out.  I ended up being out longer that I had planned and at about 12:45 all of a sudden I felt like I was going to pass out.  I started shaking and knew I needed food ASAP. I checked out at Goodwill (buying some cheap home decor) and started to panic because there is NO FOOD in Goodwill.   As I was leaving I knew if I got in my car I could get food in my system in about 5 minutes, but that felt WAY too long to wait.   I ran over to the Dollar Store next door knowing there would be at least candy in the check out aisle.  I ran in and frantically looked around (at this point I was kicking myself for not having a protein bar in my purse) and right as I thought that I spotted a peanut butter power bar (the Lord provides) and bolted for the checkout lane. The person who was ahead of me in line made the fatal mistake of leaving just enough room with her cart for me to squeeze ahead and cut in line.  (In my defense, she wasn't paying attention).   Shaking, I handed the checkout girl my half open power bar and told her to ring it up because I was about to pass out.   She obliged.

I devoured the power bar, but when you've got the shakes they aren't quickly satisfied.  Still ravenous, I hopped in my car and whipped around the corner to Quizno's and pulled through the drive through.  I quickly scanned the menu looking at all the sandwiches none of them were what I wanted.  Turkey? No.  Chicken? No. Italian? No.  Triple Meat Club? YES!   When the guy asked me if I wanted to combo that I think I shouted desperately, YES!

There is a happy ending to this story--the shakes were over in about the time it took me to scarf down the Triple Meat Club, Dr. Pepper, and Cheddar Sun Chips in 2.5 seconds flat.

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Today, I nibbled all day not eating too much because I knew I had my leftovers from Hacienda Colorado from last night's dinner with Bob and Rita.  Pleased with my restraint, I only ate half of my meal and added a few extras from Bob's plate to my box joking the whole time how Brandon has been lecturing me about eating better dinners when he is not home so now I will have a good dinner to eat!

Imagine my surprise when at approximately 6:35  this evening when I went to the fridge in anticipation of  my leftovers I had built up all day and they were no where to be found.

At first, I thought I just overlooked them.  No.  Then I thought maybe I left them in the car. No.  Then I replayed last night in my mind I vividly remembered moving a few things on the shelf to make room for them.

Then, I thought surely Brandon didn't take them.  We talked last night about me eating them and he made fun of me for scavenging others' plates to make my leftovers even better.

No. He couldn't have take them...could he?

My emotions were a mixture of rage and tears.   I felt like Ross on Friends when someone took his leftover Thanksgiving sandwich---Initially, I wanted to cry--but I thought that would be pathetic to cry over dinner at home alone.  What is the point of crying if no one can see it?
Then I had rage.  Tiff called right when I was trying to solve the mystery.  She expressed extreme empathy for my situation and we both agreed I would be feeling this way whether I was pregnant or not.   I told her if Brandon took them it would be grounds for divorce.

I texted him (he has a Masters class on Monday nights)

Me: did you take my leftovers?
B: i thought they were mine.
Me: i want a divorce.
B: i fear there is a great deal of truth to that statement.

Later on the way home from his class  he called and my true feelings came out. Rage.  I let him know exactly how I felt.  The conversation was short and we hung up.  (I was thinking I am glad you ate well today--because on Mondays I make his lunch AND his dinner for him since he has class. Don't worry about the baby and I--we will be fine.  We want to make sure YOU are well fed).

Immediately, he called back and this time instead of rage, it was tears.   He said he knew better than to mess with my food and he learned that lesson when I stabbed him with a fork on what he believes to be our 2nd date.  He apologized again, offered to pick me up something, and said that it might happen again in another 7 years.  I told him what I ate for dinner:  a sandwich, some cheeze-its, and a bowl of cereal.  Then he had the nerve to say, "Not my Cookie Crisp."