Baby Daddy 25: I Ate The Pie

I told you I have more stories. This one is a simple story. Is it really a Baby Daddy story? I don't know. But it involved my preggers wife, and will have a lasting impact on our future, so fuck it. Why not?
Have you ever done something, and immediately recognized the folly of it? You know what I mean. You do something, and then you have the "oh, shit" moment. Admit it. You have. You can lie and say you haven't, but everyone has. I even wrote a story about this moment, when I was fighting in Krav Maga. You remember? The guy grabbed my shoulder and I immediately knew I was fucked. Well, that happened again.

Let me provide some context. The other day, my wife bought us some pies. No, they were not full-sized. There is a place in town that makes small, personal-sized pies. She wanted coconut cream, and she bought me a peanut butter banana pie. That night, we decided to eat our respective pies. Now, I am willing to bet that most of you can guess where I fucked up.....

That's right, I ate the entirety of my pie. I can already tell that the single men reading this are saying, "what's so wrong with that?". All the men in relationships have their eyes closed, hanging their heads and shaking them side-to-side. And all the women reading this are saying, "You done fucked up."

So let me explain, for those who don't understand. I ate the entirety of my pie. Literally, my only defense is that, according to "serving size", I am a family of four. If I am hungry, I will eat enough food to feed myself and half of Africa. Lions included. I opened that box, saw that peanut buttery goodness, and that motherfucker was gone. I woofed that bitch down in less than a minute. How do I know it was less than a minute? Because that is how long it took for my wife to walk down the stairs, asking to try it.

I looked up - fork in my hand, mouth full, and box empty - and froze. I didn't even blink. My wife's response? "That's okay, don't share any pie with your pregnant wife - the mother of your baby." Cue the guilt. As I apologized, my wife started laughing and thanked me. She said that she now had the first of many things that she will hold over me for the next 50 years. She even went through several scenarios:

Me: "Can you help me with... (literally anything)"
Wife: "Sure, can you leave me a bite of that pie I bought you? Oh wait...."

Child: "Mom, can I have some dessert?"
Wife: "Well you could, but your father ate all the pie."

Me: "I cleaned the litter box."
Wife: "Did you clean it as well as you cleaned the pie-plate?"

Me: "What do you want for (insert meal)?"
Wife: "Not pie."

*30 years from now*
Me: "Can I get you anything?"
Wife: "A bite of that pie I bought you in 2017."

*kids' graduations*
Me: "I remembered the camera."
Wife: "Good. Shame you couldn't remember to let me try the pie I bought you."

*helping our kids with homework*
Child: "I don't understand this problem."
Wife: "You forgot to add Pi into the equation, much like your father forgot to let me try the pie I bought him."

*hugging the cat*
Wife: "PiPi! At least with you I get two 'pi's. Your father didn't even let me taste his one."

*picking out birthday cakes*
Me: "What flavor do you think they'd like?"
Wife: "It doesn't matter, you'll eat it before anyone else get's to try some."

*going to the pie store*
Me: "I bought you a pie, just like the one you bought me."
Wife: "I wonder if it will taste as good as the one I bought you. Oh wait, I'll never know."

*dies*
Tombstone: "Here lies Big Papa Z. He should have left his wife a piece of his pie."

The list just kept fucking going. And I knew I fucked up. As I was taking the final bite, even before my wife said anything, I realized I was fucking up. And it was that moment that my brain disconnected from my body, and just watched with intellectual curiosity, as my body proceeded to be dumb as fuck. I know that, no matter what I eat, my wife will want a bite. I know this. That's how I knew I loved her. She took a bite off my plate, and I didn't take a bite out of her arm. That's love. And yet, when it came to this pie, I reverted to a state of idiocy. I asked my wife how she slept this morning, and she responded that she'd have slept better if she had had some of pie.

Moral of the Story: I'm going to the pie store after work. It won't help. Also, I know my wife is committed to our marriage for at least 50 more years.