Collateral Deprivation

For years, sitting snugly in the corner of my kitchen counter has been a cookie jar. Nothing fancy, just a recycled one-gallon pickle container that customarily housed Oreos, macaroons, chocolate chip and other sweet treats. The kids loved it. As for me and the missus, we also ate cookies.

But times change and the kids are all grown and gone. The cookie jar, however, remained as a stalwart reminder of their former home during visits. It just wasn't being refilled as often.

That is, until recently. Now it's not being refilled at all. I asked the missus why she wasn't buying cookies anymore and she explained that they were banned by the weight maintenance program [name withheld] she joined.

Me: "So the food police have outlawed cookies!? And that means you can't have them in your home!? Seems a bit extreme, don't you think?"

Missus: "No, not at all. The program [name withheld] specifies that I shouldn't subject myself to the temptation of cookies. Think about it. If I see cookies, I might be tempted to eat one."

Me: "So, let me see if I understand. You go to meetings with a group of chubbaphobic women [name withheld] who tell you what to eat and what not to eat and it's inconsequential if your husband suffers collateral deprivation."

Missus: "Deprivation! What deprivation?"

Me: "Listen, the cookie jar is empty. It has been empty for some time. I'm being deprived of having any cookies! In my own home! And it's all because you went on a diet."

Missus: "Wait a minute, bucko! If you want cookies, go get them yourself. Don't look at me."

Me: "Uh --- but you used to get me cookies --- and, as I recall, our marriage certificate says you should cleave to your husband. Cleaving means you shouldn't stop getting cookies."

Missus: "What!? What? The marriage certificate says I have to get you cookies? You're nuts!"

Me: "Well, not specifically but that's what it means."

"In any event, I just don't think a husband has to go on a diet because the wife does. This program [name withheld] of yours seems to be overstepping its jurisdiction. You joined. I didn't."

"And, frankly, I'm somewhat apprehensive about what your chubbaphobic crowd [name withheld] is going to come up with next. Maybe you'll be convinced on vegetarianism? Or maybe you'll become a Democrat? Jeez, can't you see where this is going? If you get a tattoo, do I also have to get one?"

Missus: "You're still nuts but you made your point. I'll buy you some cookies and refill the cookie jar."

"Meanwhile, I'd appreciate you not continually re-interpreting the marriage certificate. Every time you want me to do something, you say it's in the marriage certificate under the 'cleave clause.' Give me a break."

Me: "But Dear, the marriage certificate is a legal document and I'm merely expounding upon the meaning of its terminology. To cleave to your husband means to do what he wants. Within reason, of course. And I think having cookies in the cookie jar is reasonable."