Did you want some cookies?

Yesterday while grocery shopping with Mr. Perfect, the worst imaginable thing happened... I became my mother! GAH! I know, I know, there are worst things, but it was quite troubling in the moment.

You see, before Mr. Perfect moved in, I would never buy cookies. I have a very low impulse control when it comes to food so I won’t buy anything I know I could gobble down in a single sitting. Mr Skinny... err... I mean, Mr. Perfect on the other hand likes to have an occasional cookie. He amazes me with his eating habits. He’ll be craving cookies and will only eat one and his craving is satisfied. I wish I could be so strong. Anyway, now that I’ve gotten used to having cookies in the house, I rather enjoy it. I’ve also been eating them sparingly, so that’s good. Last night, while we were going down the cookie aisle, I asked Mr. Perfect if he wanted cookies, when he didn’t answer, I repeated the question and when he still didn’t answer I insisted one more time: “hey, don’t forget your cookies”. Honestly, I’m not even sure I gave him the chance to respond. Hah! That’s when he responded with: “if you want cookies D, get cookies... don’t make it sound like they are only for me”. I froze in the aisle, realising what I had done. Oh God! I’ve become my mother, I panicked! My Mom likes to blame others for her poor eating habits or buy something for someone else so she can justify having it. It drives me bonkers! I swear, if I start panicking about driving in the snow or calling people with a silly excuse just to talk to them, I might just have a heart attack!


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