Acracknophobia.

Steve has always been one of those people who can eat anything he wants, any time he wants, and never gain weight or have any negative effects from it.

Which (may I just say?) can be just a wee tad annoying to live with. I mean, I can just walk past a brownie mix and add an inch to my waist whereas I’ve had to listen to Steve say during most of our marriage, “Well, I’d better have a piece of cake before bedtime so that I can keep my weight up.”

Could a jury possibly convict me for throttling such a man?

However, in recent months, his cholesterol has come back a little high and so he’s been on more of of a mission to alter his diet a bit. And he’s doing very well with it, I must say.

(I must also add that I am more pleased than I can tell you to hear him ask how many calories or fat are in a particular dessert. Ahhhh. Sweet revenge. He finally has to do what I’ve been doing for twenty-nine stinkin’ years! Mwahahahaha!)

But I digress. . .

Since I can also stand to watch my calorie and fat consumption (understatement of the year), he and I have pretty much been on the same page, food-wise.

Except for one item. And this is serious stuff, folks.

My darling husband loves lots of crackers with his lunch time soup and has now started requesting that I buy him fat free crackers.

Now while I can happily consume things like low fat Ranch dressing and 2% milk all day long, there are some places where I feel compelled to draw the line.

And ladies and gentlemen, fat free soda crackers would be one of those places. To me, they are hideous, horrible, and horrendous things. (Want me to tell you how I really feel?)

And so, since the overall cost is not any greater (each box just lasts longer) I have started buying His-n-Her Crackers.

Which would work out just dandy except for one small problem. The wrappers on the crackers look exactly the same. So if I see a lonely sleeve of crackers in the cupboard that has been extracted from its sponsoring box, well, how am I to know if I’m about to bite into the yummy full-of-fat cracker or the loathsome free-of-fat cracker?

It’s a real issue, people.

And so, caving into my personal paranoia of inadvertently consuming you know what, I got out my marker and carefully labeled each sleeve of crackers.

A little OCD? Probably.

Well, Steve took one look at my all my careful organizing and labeling of the conglomerate cracker population in our family and made a solemn announcement, “Honey, it seems to me that you have a severe case of acracknophobia.”

(imagine rim shot here.)