On Saturday, I got up at 5 AM. Tired and bleary eyed, I wandered into the kitchen for some water and a snack. My aunt dropped by last week and left me 6 pink cupcakes. I love cupcakes and that love has blossomed now that I’m breastfeeding Emory. I had been dreaming about these cupcakes for hours.
Breastfeeding hunger far exceeds any sort of hunger I experienced when I was pregnant. Now I eat around the clock. I don’t stuff myself with one dish like I did when I was pregnant. Instead, I crave mere tablespoon sizes of a plethora of stuff. I’ll scoop out a big dollop of peanut butter followed by a spoon full of jam followed by some ice cream followed by one ravioli followed by one plum followed by a cupcake followed by a spoon full of cottage cheese. The hunger is awesome. I have had dreams about catered parties, rooms filled with round tables, finger foods as far as the eye can see. (An hors d’oeuvre catered party is how I currently picture heaven to look.)
When I got to the kitchen, I noticed that there were only two cupcakes left. There were four when I went to bed the night before. And they were in Suran wrap in pink pairs. One of the pairs was gone. There were no crumbs, no plastic pieces. Just a clean table surface where my pink cupcakes once sat. “Wow!” I thought to myself. “My husband must really be delirious. He consumed not one, but two pink cupcakes!” I was proud.
Tobyjoe doesn’t like sweets. He rarely eats them and he never craves them. (It kind of sucks because I always want to split desserts with him when we’re out to eat. And he’ll either say no or agree and then not touch them forcing me to consume the entire thing thereby adding to the size of my already expanding ass.)
But who cares about a large ass when you’re breastfeeding? I grabbed the remaining pair of cupcakes, unwrapped them, and gingerly stuffed one of them into my mouth.
Hours went by. Tobyjoe was wide awake and filled with energy. I watched as he frantically cleaned, picked up around the house, washed things. He expelled energy I would have paid top dollar for. He finished the kitchen and then cleaned the dining room where we had a temporary second bedroom. Here’s what that looked like:
Tobyjoe decided that it was time for us both to return to our original bed. He decided that Emory was sleeping enough at night and we could start sleeping together again. So he decided to put the futon back up to couch position.
“OH MY GOD.” He yelled. “You’re not going to believe this.”
“What? What’s wrong?” I asked.
“Well, there is some sort of pink massacre underneath the futon. Someone brought a cupcake under the futon.”
“I thought you ate the cupcakes! There were two missing this morning and I figured you temporarily lost your mind and ate them both!”
“Wait, there are two missing?”
He moved the futon further away from the wall. “AH, yes, there are two missing.”
Beneath the futon were two, half-eaten pink cupcakes, some plastic wrap, a play mouse, a napkin, and an unopened bag of Dentek floss sticks. Murray had struck again.
P.S. I did take pictures of the massacre, but I accidentally deleted the entire SIM card.
I woke up one morning to find a baggie that had two dessert shells (the kind for strawberry shortcake that you find in the produce section) on the floor with numerous marks on it and said shells in pieces. Surprisingly nothing escaped from the bag.
The night before, the shells were sitting innocently on the kitchen counter. Simon, our Javanese kitty, had gotten a hold of the bag for a potential late night snack.
They are such strange little creatures. So weird. Guess that’s why LOL cats are so damned popular.