Tell the truth? Yes? No?

My former housemate J makes the world's best brownies from her secret recipe.

Sunday we moved over to her place from our new place to house/cat2x sit while she goes on a river cruise with old friends. The house is occupied and Clea and Babette have laps for the duration.

On my old desk were two tins, one with cookies, which are pretty amazing too and one with brownies. The note, Merry Christmas Rick and D-L, left no doubt about her intentions.

I left the two tins on the desk where Rick would be working. He was really pleased about the cookies.

"And the brownies?"

"Brownies?"

"There were two tins."

"The other was her sewing box. I put it in her room."

I went into J's bedroom and there was the tin, filled with brownies, not a needle, thread or scissors to be found.

Now I was faced with a great moral dilemma. I could eat all the brownies myself or share them with my beloved husband.

I am guilty of thinking it over.

I guess I really love that man. I showed him the brownies. We are sharing.