This just in: My husband is trying to kill me

Many of y'all know that I don't eat sugar as a rule. I ate a piece of my wedding cake and a pastry in Paris, but that's been it for the last several years. Sugar isn't really my friend. Last night, Super M came home with a box of crack. Sure it looks like a harmless box of Girl Scout Cookies. But people, those are Samoas, the yummy coconut/chocolate ones. That's like putting a loaded gun in my kitchen! Or at least a big fat bag of speed! Geez, people! I can't be responsible for my actions with this stuff in the house. Warn the neighbors. At least it's not Thin Mints or Tagalongs. That shit is heroin.