Nut-tastic

Boy #3 did his grocery shopping yesterday. Living with a diabetic has taught us all to hide sugar. That's why he does a little light shopping on his own. If I locked him in his room, I'm guessing he could survive about a week in there. I asked him to buy dog bones, we were dangerously low on them and I don't want to have Nooter report me to doggie social services. He came home with Nut-tastic dog treats.

Nut-tastic. That name is so fan-effing-tastic.

The husband came home and saw the jar, picked it up and said, "Nut-tastic!"
Boy #2's girlfriend blurts out, "They're for the dog."
The husbands eyebrow went up and he looked at me, "Huh." I said, "She's known you less than a year and she's figured out you're a moron."
"I see the dog on the jar, I know they're dog treats."
"Oh, then maybe she overheard some diabolical plan to put them in a candy dish and watch you eat a few before anything was said, maybe."

_______________________________________

My mother-in-law's initial diagnosis, Stevens Johnsons Syndrome has been changed to Bullous Pemphigoid, equally as awful and has begun to progress aggressively. We call the husband a moron in fun, we know he's hurting, he's worried about his mom.
Thank you all for your well wishes.

_____________________________________

Oh and there's less than an 80% chance that I'd ever lock Boy #3 in his room.