I Never Thought Cheetos Could Destroy My Marriage

What isn't to like about a snack food that is bright orange and has a very very faint smell of vomit? Chester Cheetah seems like a trustworthy guy, sure I'll buy his product. A cheetah's gotta making a living. As I was standing in line at the pharmacy with my ibuprofen and impulse buy, my husband asked me why I was buying them because he didn't like them. My response? "Perfect, that means I don't have to share." I hate sharing. We don't eat processed junk food very often and it's never in our house, so we're still learning which types of garbage one another prefers. He drinks a lot of soda, which seems like poison to me and lacks a wildlife spokesperson, but to each his own, right? Anyway, I needed a snack for our trip to the farm stand.

I soon discovered that not only does my beloved not like Cheetos, he apparently goes insane if anybody eats Cheetos in close proximity to him - like in the passenger side of the car he is driving. I was munching happily, poisoning my innards with neon powdered cheese-themed crunchies while he was road-raging and flipping out all of a sudden. He was yelling at other cars, then me, until finally he insisted that I throw the bag away because he couldn't calm down while I was eating them. Aww hell naw.

I eat Cheetos like once a year, and this was my day to eat them, definitely wasn't about to throw them out. I couldn't understand why he was being so irrational about it, but he was so agitated by the Cheetos that I had to agree to stop eating them in the car so close to his olfactory system. Marriage is full of compromise. Later, he chastised me for sneaking Truffles a little Cheeto that fell on the floor and he examined her subsequent bowel movements for signs of poisoning from the Cheeto. Oh no! She's not going to make it!

Yeesh. Ok, fine, no more Cheetos. We're now a Dorito family. No cool ranch, though, those are disgusting. There is no spice or herb called "cool ranch." Makes no sense.

After the Cheetos incident, I couldn't sleep so I stayed up late and finished a book. I'm torn between calling it good and calling it unfinished. It's a writer I like, Charles Baxter, and the plot vaguely centered around an identity crisis, obsession and love. When I read the last page, I was overcome with the feeling I get when I watch a really artsy film with other people and it ends and I look around and expect to get a lot of nodding and "wow, wasn't that a piece of crap?" but instead everyone else is pretending to understand what happened and saying things like "I loved his use of ferns and shadows." By then it's too late to propose a Simpsons Season 4 marathon and people are clamoring to claim Mulholland Drive as their favorite movie. This book was like that. There was suspense and mystery, confusion and drama, but I don't know if there were two main characters or one and that frustrates me. Which guy was The Soul Thief? Can somebody tell me?