Cashew

On the dining room table, shortly after Christmas, I noticed a blue box that said 'Sea Salt Cashews'. I didn't know where it came from, if it was a gift or if Mark had bought them. I just knew that such a thing sounded delicious. I love nuts, so I tore off the seal, opened the box, and dug in. Over the days and weeks that followed I would stop and grab a couple of cashews every time I passed through the dining room. One week ago, on Thursday, I ate the last of the cashews. That was around eight in the evening. At about eight fifteen in the evening a howling started.

"I was saving those for company!! WHY DO YOU DO THAT?? WHY DO YOU EAT THINGS AND LEAVE THE EMPTY PACKAGE FOR ME TO FIND??"

I tried to ignore the crazy man screaming at me. I knew Mark's sister and her husband were arriving on Friday, but I did not know the prized cashews were being saved for them. After all, Mark had seen me shoving cashews in my mouth on a number of occasions. Where did he think those were coming from? So I defended myself.

"I didn't know you were saving those. Why didn't you just tell me not to eat them? Seriously, I......  "

"Waaaa... you're a pig. You do that all the time."

Things escalated from there. Dark thoughts entered my mind. Disparaging names were hurled back and forth, and I went to bed angry. I woke up still angry, but Mark's family was visiting that day. So I tamped it down, buried it deep within my soul and put on a happy face.

Mark's sister and her husband were just what I needed to forget about our horrible argument. They were fun and I took them on a little tour of Chicago, which got me out of the house. We left Mark at home. So it was off to the lakefront, down to Michigan Avenue, over to see the Michael Jordan statue, and then we picked up lunch at Harold's Fried Chicken, a Chicago institution. By the time we got back to the house all the bile and anger had passed. Mark and I were happy together again. After Melena and Reggie left on Sunday, Mark and I had a little discussion. We apologized and made up. Mark even told me that I could eat anything in the house I wanted to eat. His fancy chocolates, any of his many snacks, cookies. I was welcome to even eat the extra tin of cashews on the kitchen counter.

I see those cashews sitting there. I see that pile of snack bags next to the tin of cashews. I also see a nice box of Frango chocolates on the bar. He's out of his mind if he thinks I'm going to fall for that.