The Cheetos Story
I've alluded to the Cheetos Story a couple of times before. Now, since it was requested, I guess I'll finally break down and tell the story.
Wow, now that I think the whole thing through, it's kind of embarrassing to admit to this story, but here goes:
The Time I Threw an Absolute Fit All Because of Cheetos
(I'm guessing that Cheetos were just the snack that broke the camel's back, but, yeah, anyway...)
It was a lovely fall day, and Aaron and I were still in our pajamas, sitting on the couch watching television. Aaron decided that it was time for a snack, so he got up and put some Cheetos in a bowl for us to share. He came back to the couch, and we slowly ate the entire bowl. Then he decided that, what the hell, it's a lazy day and we don't have to impress anyone, let's have some more.
He got up, filled the bowl again, and went toward the computer room. This is when I started to pout a little because I was having a good time and wanted to share another bowl of Cheetos with my charming husband. I didn't want the fun to end, I guess. He thought I just wanted more Cheetos, so he went to give me the bowl he had, because, well, they're just Cheetos.
But, I wanted to share, and I certainly didn't want to have him give up his bowl of Cheetos just because I was being whiney. I mean they're Cheetos, they're damn good, and I would be pissed if someone took my bowl, so I didn't want to take his.
Therefore, I went to pour another bowl. He didn't want me to dirty another bowl, so he said, "Here. Just take this one. I'm done."
Well, I apparently could not deal with this. So I slammed the clean bowl that I was going to fill back in the cupboard, picked up the bag of Cheetos (which was still folded up and clipped - just so you know I'm not making a mess), crushed them all, and threw the bag at my husband.
I then started to cry hysterically, he looked at me like I was insane (which I rightfully deserved, but at the time this pissed me off even more) and went into the computer room.
I went into my closet, shut the door, sat on the floor and cried. He came in about 20 minutes later and asked why I was sitting on the floor of my closet crying so hard.
Well, duh, because the windows were open and I didn't want the neighbors to hear me crying.
He helped me up and led me by my hand to our bed and cuddled me, waiting for me to answer for why I was crying about Cheetos.
The answer was, when I could finally get it out, that sometimes I just want things the way I want them, and I felt like I always try to give him what he wants. This time, I just wanted things my way, and he wasn't letting me have my way.
Geez....PMS much? I totally blew everything out of proportion, and I probably would have laughed at me too if I was in his position. That day, however, I was not having it.
Now, when I'm crying and he doesn't know why, he asks, "Is it the Cheetos again?"
It's never the Cheetos, but it does make me smile a little and stop crying.
So that is the Cheetos story. I'm embarrassed to admit that it actually happened, but I'm sure we all have our own version of the Cheetos story - when a little thing set off a big battle.