A letter to my husband's admirer

Dear Buffy,

I wasn't aware until recently that you knew where I worked. But it has become apparent to me that you do.

I know that it is you who must be bringing sweets to my office and leaving them on the kitchen table. Sweets like lemon cake with lemon frosting, chocolate chip cookies, and a box of bagles and cookies from Einstein Bro.s.

Only someone so devious would be working so hard to ruin my figure. I guess you think that I will eat so much that my waist-line will slowly disappear causing my man to find me less attractive and you more attractive.

Or you may think that bringing such delectable treats that I will eat will draw me to exercise more to guard my figure and spend less time with my man.

But, you shall not win. No, you shall not win.

I am not eating your diabolical treats. Well, not very much of them anyways.

I am making my own. So that I can fatten him up too. Then maybe you'll leave him alone.

So take that, Buffy.