For the record, Chris wants to add that a triathlon is really "Swim, Run, Bike."
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Well, after a couple days (rationing myself to three cookies at a time to savor the goodness) there were only six left. Nobody was around to see me eat all six or to stop me, but I knew that Chris would notice when there were none left, or that he would detect the poorly disposed of bag in the garbage can, no matter how hard I would try to hide it. I ate the first one. Really good. Second one. Third one. Then I had that dilemma: if I ate one more, there would only be two left. If I ate two more, there would only be one left, and that's just cruel to leave just one for my hardworking husband. I suppose I could eat them all, destroy all incriminating evidence, and go buy another bag of Oreos and no one would know the difference.
I used terrific self restraint and left two cookies (even though my glass had plenty of milk left for two more "dunks"). There they were, sitting on the counter, waiting for Chris to notice them. When he finally got home from work, I proudly announced, "Honey, I saved you two Oreos! And let me tell you, it was hard not to eat them!" He then responded, "Oh, you can have them!"
Oh, the cruelty!