cracker wars

A late night snack bites both of us. C grabs the last box of grissini, dipping them unsuccessfully in a jar of honey(he chose the wrong kind- all crystallized). I, in an effort to grab one, karate chop his breadstick- split half in his mouth, half falls in the honey jar. Despite the deadly accurate aim, it was an accident. Honestly!

Seeing C growl over his box, I'm forced to scrounge around for my own box of saltines and favorite blue cheese. While I spread the cheese onto my first cracker- C looks at me intently. I spread my cheese a little too vigorously, and the cracker busts in my hand. C nods at me knowingly- with the look of satisfaction. He brags "I broke that cracker with my mind."

Unfazed, I stack a pile of four crackers on to my plate- fully ready enjoy my snack regardless of cracker breaking mindwaves. While I divert my attention for the briefest second to restore the twisty tie to the cracker package, C in plain sight drives a finger straight through my entire stack of saltines. What an outrage!

C claims it was purely an accident. This unnecessary escalation has my mind spinning. I cannot think of a response witty enough- I make C eat every bit of the destroyed cracker pieces. Without water!

The next day after dinner, I ask C to prepare the table for the cheese plate while I surf the web. When I go back into the dining room, I see a plate of busted stack of crackers. I cannot live this down. C grins again with satisfaction- he says the vacuum attachment I've left on the floor has made him trip over and his finger landed perfectly in the center of these crackers. I grumble since more perfectly good crackers have fallen victim. He says he only wanted to make me laugh. I can't win because it's true- I am giggling. So Aristotle is right again. One can't win against humor.