Confessional

My friend Linda and I were at dinner the other night with Cute Husband and Tall Husband. We were talking about foods we love. During the conversation, Linda and I discovered that we both have a passion for Nutella, that wonderful hazelnut spread. Neither of us is to be trusted with a jar in the house. We love it with peanut butter on just about anything; go crazy for it on a croissant; on toast; heck, we love it on the end of a knife. Never mind waterboarding: just promise us Nutella and either of us would tell you where the missiles are.

So the next day, I'm in the grocery store and I've just put my hand on a jar of Nutella when my cell phone rings and through my bluetooth I hear, "What are you up to?" It's Tall Husband. How did he know?

"Oh, you startled me. I'm just looking at the Nutella." A woman pushing her cart past me quickens her pace, as she thinks I'm some deranged maniac talking to a jar.

"Annie!"

"What's that? You're cutting out. Call you later." And I take off down the isle with the Nutella bouncing around the grocery cart.

"Get the Nutella, Annie! You're a person of great willpower and would never over indulge."

Oh, Tall Husband, ye of too much faith.