So Nuri walks into our laundry room in the kitchen and he’s holding my box of chocolates.

But these ain’t no ordinary chocolates. These chocolates are Chesapeake Chocolates. Chocolates with a cult following. Some of the best chocolates that the great state of Maryland has ever produced. Chocolates which my friend gave to me, knowing I had been waiting 4 and a half months to eat them. Chocolates that he had to drive a half hour out of his way to buy for me.

These are the real deal. The cream of the crop. The bees knees. The cats meow. These chocolates are so god damn valuable that I took the extra time and deliberately hid in them the back of our fridge, ever so carefully so they would not be discovered by anyone, and so that I would not have to share them at all. So that I could savor them. One by one. Day by day. 9 days of chocolatey goodness.

So here I am folding a t-shirt, when up walks Nuri, and he’s standing there in the doorway, chomping on my chocolates. They’re half gone. Half. HE ATE HALF MY CHOCOLATES. I am watching him, completely dumbfounded, knowing full on how ignorant he is to the significance of these chocolates, and then he goes

‘Hey, good chocolates. Where did you get them?’

HAHAHAHAHAHHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA I SHOULD BE MAD BUT IM LAUGHING TOO HARD