midwesternmommycake.jpgThere’s a petite cake in the freezer. A chocolate one with butter-creme icing. Every now and again I’ll buy one of these cakes, hide it in the freezer then cut off a chunk of it for lunch each day. (If I do stuff like this, I feel compelled to exercise, so one could make the argument that sweets HELP make certain people healthy and fit. Right?)

The cake couldn’t be hidden this time, so there’s a sign on it. The husband knows better than the mess with my cake. But I like to give certain men in this household a “reminder” here and again.

It all comes down to this: I will share my life, my body, and my sleep space. I will even sacrifice my boobs, sleep, and sanity. But I will NOT share my sweets. (Ok. I would share them with YOU dear friends. And that’s because you understand the love that I feel for sugary goodness.)

Just so I don’t feel like such a horrible person for not sharing… Why don’t you lovelies tell me what YOU refuse to share with the rest of the people who inhabit your household? Pretty please? With chocolate on top?

(Heidi’s SO lucky. She’s been eating Norweign chocolate.)

(Carrie I promise to do your meme on Friday, K?)