Archive for June, 2015

Do You Know the Muffin Man?

Tuesday, June 2nd, 2015

Exposition: For the past seven weeks, I’ve been doing a no-grain, no-sugar, no-a-lot-of-other-things thing where I have to shop and cook and shop and cook all the time, and it’s kind of exhausting but also supposedly going to be great for me. We’ll see, my friends. We’ll see. Aaaanyway . . .

Cue a recent evening, in which John and I are both in the kitchen, cooking. I notice that he has pulled out a muffin tray.

M: You’re making MUFFINS?

J: Yeah.

M: NOW?

J: Yeah.

M: WHEN I CAN’T EAT THEM?

J: Sorry, yeah.

M: FOR 13.5* YEARS, YOU HAVE NOT MADE A SINGLE MUFFIN. Now, when I can’t eat muffins, YOU’RE MAKING MUFFINS?

J: They’re only corn bread. They’re not really muffins.

M: They’re corn bread muffins!

J: It’s just faster than making a big tray.

M: I love corn bread! I love muffins!

J: I’m sorry, Sweetie. Really. I just want some corn bread.

M: Why did it never once occur to you, in the past 13.5 years, to make muffins, and yet now, muffins are suddenly something you make?

J: I didn’t know how much you love muffins.

M: I do love them. I love them immensely. Even more than cupcakes.

J: How is that possible?

M: Because cupcakes are almost impossible to eat, and you can never get the ratio of frosting to cake right without a fork and a plate, and if you don’t have a fork and a plate, you’re basically burying you face in frosting. They’re maddening!

J: I see your point.

M: But muffins—it’s all right there.

J: And you can pretend they’re good for you!

M: Absolutely!

J: And sometimes they are pretty good for you.

M: Not the kind I like.

J: What kind do you like?

M: Reeses Peanut Butter Cup muffins. Do you make those?

J: I don’t have a recipe at hand, no.

M: I would also take Snickers muffins and Oreo muffins.

J: Banana walnut?

M: Banana chocolate chip.

J: That does sound good. What about lemon poppyseed? I have a recipe for that.

M: Okay, yeah. You can make me those.

J: Just think how great that’ll be!

M: Yeah, thinking about it is JUST like tasting them RIGHT NOW.

J: It’s only two months!

M: Oh, God. [Watching him pour the batter into the muffin tray.] HOW CAN YOU DO THIS TO ME?

J: I just—

M: AAAAAAAAAAAAAARGH! [Runs from the room.]

A week after that? He MADE THEM AGAIN. And I sidled up to him in the kitchen and sang this song:

Do you know the muffin man, the muffin man, the muffin man? Yes, I know the muffin man, and he went for thirteen years without making muffins, until one day when his wife couldn’t eat any muffins, he decided to make muffins, and then a week later he decided to make more muffins, and now there are muffins, muffins, everywhere, nothing but muffins, 24/7 muffins, all muffins all the time, it’s a world of endless, non-stop muffins. I am married to the fucking muffin man, and my life is nothing but forbidden muffins!

*I just noticed that my last two blog entries have referenced the amount of time that John and I have been together. Yeah, I’m kind of obsessed with that. You’d think I would have stopped counting at some point, basically accepting that we’re going to keep doing this relationship thing for perpetuity. Time will accrue, we’ll still be together, etc. Nope. I keep ticking off the half-years.