How Long Would He Live Without Me?

This is the question of the day. I thought about this yesterday and after some pondering I have come to the conclusion that I have reason to doubt his ability to live on his own. I am referring to Anthony of course, and no I have no intentions of letting him live on his own anytime soon. This is the event that enfolded. It is short but it left me thinking.

Thursday night I was feeling as if I could not make another meal. It happens every so often in a young ladies life. The question of what to make for dinner is a constant concern but on that specific night I didn't even care if we went hungry. I passed the infamous Pizza hut on my way home from work and instantly realized that that was going to be my golden ticket for the night. I don't have any stories from that place which was a shock to me. All I saw was someone being arrested in the parking lot while waiting for my Pizza. It brought a smile to my face.

Sunday afternoon I was bunkered up in my bedroom reading a book and basically just enjoying myself. I usually make a pretty fantastic meal on Sunday afternoon but the previous days dinner blues were still lingering so I put the thought of dinner behind me and continued to read. Anthony shouted up from the stairs and said that he was going to heat him up some leftover pizza for dinner, "Would you like to join me?" I put my bookmark in my book and strolled downstairs. Here is where the question of doubt floated in.....

When walking into the kitchen I noticed two things. #1 The Pizza Hut box was still in the fridge. #2 Anthony had a Ziploc baggie with Pizza in it. "Where is that pizza from?" He gave me a weird smile and muttered some lie. I snatched up the baggie and realized that the pizza was warm. It soon occurred to me that it was from his backpack and that it had been there since Friday morning. He apparently did not eat it for lunch that day. This is disgusting! I was instantly appalled. I threw it in the garbage and then had to discuss with him why it was not okay to eat warm pizza that had been sitting out for 2 days. He was butthurt and a little upset that I had yelled at him. But in that moment I felt validated....in fact, I still feel as if I made the right decision. If yelling at him helped him to see that this is not okay, and that stunts like that could possibly make him sick, then maybe I should yell more often. He is not living in a bachelor pad, he is a grown up with a grown up career and for some reason I expect more from him.

I realize this is highly dramatic, but it makes me think. What if I go on a girls retreat for a week? Will I come home with a husband on the couch with food poisoning? I hope I can continue to instill the proper knowledge so he can eventually get through those nights without me...heaven forbid I am away for more than a night or two. Best of luck Anthony, best of luck.