The Case Of The Disappearing Snacks
February 19, 2020 | View PDF
My husband and I enjoy snacks. We like our cookies, crackers, nuts of all shapes and sizes, candies, and other assorted treats. When we have such delightful goodies in the house, we keep them in a specific spot so we both know where to check when the snack monster strikes.
My husband also has a special cupboard in his shop that he reserves for tasty tidbits of all description. He calls his cupboard his ‘secret stash’, which in my opinion happens to be the worst kept secret on the mountain. The neighbors know about his so-called ‘secret’ hidey-hole and where to check if they need a fast snack. They will often come over to visit my husband when he is puttering around in the shop, but I figure they come to munch, not to visit.
Of course, the snacks waiting in the house, along with my husband’s open secret and the treasure trove of delectable treats found in his little spot leads to difficulties for me. When the treats in the house disappear, yours truly gets the blame for demolishing most of the package of whatever the goodie happens to be, even though I point out that the bag has been open for quite some time, it has been sitting on the counter just waiting for greedy little hands to snake into the package and extract a piece or two, and it isn’t my fault if he does not avail himself of this fact. Which of course he does help himself when the mood strikes, but he just conveniently forgets how much he forages and he finds it more convenient to blame me when our little sack of nibbles seems to evaporate into thin air rather than to shoulder some of the responsibility himself.
Accusations get even worse when it comes to his stash in the shop. Every time he comes home from town, he hauls in bags of foodstuffs to store in his most non-secret of hiding places.
Naturally I have to investigate to see what sorts of tidbits he has purchased, as I feel it is a good practice to know the available food items in his shop. He will buy snacks that are totally unpalatable, such as fake meat (I put salami and bologna in this category), disgusting canned items such as artificial spaghetti, odd kinds of hard candy that will sit for months waiting for some unsuspecting person to eat, but he also does quite a fine job of purchasing treats I DO adore, such as chocolates, crackers, sunflower seeds, and the like.
If I have to enter the shop for any reason, and if the munchies make an appearance at the same time, I have been known to take a handful or two or five of some of his more enticing treats. After all, why did he buy them, if not to eat? We would not want anything to go stale, now would we? Then of course I receive the blame when the cookie jar goes dry.
I get accused of overindulging. Never mind that my husband sits in his shop all day some days watching YouTube on his computer and all the while munching his way through a huge assortment of various food items as he watches. There is no doubt in my mind that he liberally indulges in his choice of snacks, and these tidbits disappear because of his hand in the snack bucket, not mine.
I thought at one point it would be hilarious to doctor some homemade brownies with some sort of purgative to discourage theft and to find out who really eats the treats. However, I’m afraid I’d forget what I’d done and eat the brownies myself.
The neighbors are less than helpful in this matter. I do believe they purposely encourage discord in this household as they delight in purchasing treats and doling them out with specific instructions as to whom gets which snack. For example, they will give my husband ginger cookies, Mars bars, and maybe some praline pecans, telling him that those goodies are his. They hand me chocolate oatmeal cookies, a large bar of chocolate, and perhaps a bag of cashews. Then they sit back, and casually inquire a few days later as to what snacks remain in the house and what is left in the shop. It doesn’t help that when they come visit, as a good hostess I offer them some of the treats they gave us, and since we generally visit with them in the house and not in the shop, my treats are the ones that get consumed. Then naturally I get blamed for demolishing these tidbits.
Life just isn’t fair sometimes. At least I can console myself with a cookie.
It has become a joke as to how long a particular brand of cookie, or a jar of nuts or some other equally delicious treat will last at our house, and who will do the majority of the snacking.
It is a good thing we have a dog. She gets blamed for the bulk of the missing items, and she never denies it. She just looks at us and waits for another bite of cracker to come her way.