Diet Saboteur

Last night I stepped on the scale and sighed my usual "augh."
My husband says, "What' the matter?" (Big mistake on his part.)
"I didn't lose a single ounce!!"
"Are you dieting?" (Big mistake number 2.)
"AM I DIETING???? AM I DIETING???? HAVE YOU BEEN IN A COMA FOR THE LAST 2 YEARS???? I'M ALWAYS DIETING, NOT THAT IT MEANS ANYTHING TO YOU, YOU DIET SABOTEUR. MISTER HO-HO, MISTER MILTON HERSEY, MISTER RING-DING, KING KIT-KAT!"
And get this, he started laughing. The nerve of him to laugh at his nearly hysterical, peri-menopausal, chocolate craving, stressed out, fragile wife. The loving mother of his dear teenage children . . . . wait, it's all his fault isn't it? If it weren't for him, I'd have no teenagers, no spreading middle, and I'm sure I can blame him for menopause too. I need a candy bar to get over this.

Note: he had a candy bar in his pocket.