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Talkin’ ‘Bout Muffins

The hubs was off a little early Thursday. He picked up Connor and they headed to Target to grab a few things. Hubs doesn’t shop with Connor often, so I anticipated some challenges.

When I arrived home, he reported that Connor was good at the store, so he agreed to let him buy a muffin on the way out. That was mistake #1.

Connor asked to choose his own, and hubs agreed. Mistake #2.

Connor chose a chocolate, chocolate-chip muffin, which is basically a muffin-shaped slab of cake, and hubs let him. Mistake #3.

Connor was told that if he got his homework done, did a good job showering and then finishing dinner, he could have half the muffin after dinner. He did those things, seeking reassurance about the muffin every few minutes.

After dinner, and before muffin acquisition, I asked him to hand me the remote so I could turn the TV off. He started arguing, talking back, and pulled it away so I couldn’t reach. I was pissed.

I uttered the unthinkable – “You’ve lost your muffin!”


“But…but, I earned it!”

Yeah, he earned it. But you can’t earn something and then be an ass right before you get it and still expect to get it. A mini meltdown ensued, but hubs was able to calm him by assuring him he could earn it the next day with good behavior at school.

Next day, I picked Connor up from school early for a doctor’s appointment. He’d had a great day at school and asked if he earned the muffin. I told him he could have it when we got home.

“But you should have brought it with you!”

We then had to discuss how long it would take to get to the doctor’s office, how long we’d be there, and how long back home. I’d had enough muffin talk. “If I hear one more word about that muffin, it’s going in the trash. Not One. More. Word.”

Somehow we made it through and got home without incident. I put the muffin on the table and told him to enjoy.

I came out of my room a few minutes later and found him laid out on the tile floor, face down and groaning.

“What’s wrong,” I asked.

“My stomach…it, it hurts. The muffin was too big and too much chocolate.”

Ain’t that some shit?

The root of all evil.

The root of all evil.


About Flannery

Kid, husband, dogs, my mother, full-time job, maximum stress, minimal relaxation...sooner or later I had to vent. AND we moved from California to Texas. I could start a whole other blog about that.

6 responses »

  1. Oh this whole story sounds like something out of my house! 😀

  2. Oh, the irony! I’m sorry but You gave me the best laugh of the day! Love it!

  3. lol. Can I steal this idea and write about Christmas lights? It will be a very similar story … except lights instead of muffins.

  4. awww…poor guy…so much trouble for a muffin..and then it was just too much all the way around.

  5. Damn muffin-y goodness. It’ll get you every time.

  6. Too funny! My son does the exact same fatalistic lamenting when we take something away. “You have lost your Kindle time tonight.” Ohhh noooo! I’ll NEVER have Kindle time EVER AGAIN!!!!!”


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