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A taste of my own medicine

Tonight for dinner I made roast with potatoes and green beans. It cooked all day long in the crock pot and when we got home the house smelled delicious. Shelton and I sat down, had dinner and talked about our day. This mundane activity is what we do every single night.

Shelton breezed through his dinner and I made my way in to seconds. Say it with me- fatty, fatty, fatty!

As I'm sitting there eating, Shelton begins clearing his dishes. Then he starts collecting all of the condiments. I felt so uncomfortable. Inside I was thinking, please just sit down and talk to me, even if you are finished eating.

Then, that little light inside my head went DING! I looked at Shelton and said, Is this what it feels like when I do this to you? And he said, Yes.

See, more nights than not I am the one who finishes eating first. And I immediately starting clearing the table, working around Shelton. Are you finished with this? Mind if I take this? And Shelton always asks me to just wait until he is finished.

Well, now I know how it feels and I will certainly try to make it stop.

As soon as dinner was over Shelton filled a bowl with ice cream. Now, I knew I had those little pre-made Toll House brownie batter square things in the fridge. And I knew that I was going to chop these up and mix them in with our vanilla ice cream- much like Marble Slab. Shelton did not know this. So while he hastily made his dessert, I just sat back and watched.

Later on I made myself the brownie wonder treat and Shelton VERY JEALOUSLY watched me eat it. Whimpering through my entire bowl. I felt no sympathy and told him he'd get his tomorrow.

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