The Soiled Egg Salad?

As I have indicated as much in previous posts, this pregnancy has left me hormonally challenged. Looney tunes. One step closer to forever alienating myself from sanity. I try to control it with walks, baths, reading, etc. But seriously? It's like a flip switches and instead of actually CALMING me the distracting activity generally just goes awry as opposed to staving off another bout of mouth over-use.
Most weeks, in an effort to save some money, as well as maintain our health, I try to make my husband his "lunches". It has become fairly routine and I generally make a big vat of something or other, like egg salad or pasta or burgers and he takes the whole big pot of it to work and portions it out there. I do not judge. He's a man and works in a man's world.
This past week, my husband requested egg salad. Since he stayed home sick on Monday, it was off to work he went Tuesday morning with a 2 pound casserole of egg salad and a loaf of his favorite whole-wheat bread. I sigh in relief as I see another week of lunches, done and out the door.
Tuesday evening, as per usual, I feel inclined to ask about the quality of this particular batch of egg salad, knowing full well that to him it tastes like all the OTHER batches of egg salad. "Good", he replies. I leave well enough alone. He thinks it's good enough to eat, which is good enough for me.
On Wednesday, I shockingly spy the empty caserole on our kitchen counter. Hmmm, I think to myself. Where did all of that egg salad GO? Moving on to other things, the egg salad left my thoughts as we danced around other more important matters, like the weekend and what's for dinner.... The only two things I really seem to care about these days. Later that evening, as things calmed down and we lay in "our" spots on our respective couches, I remembered to ask my husband what happened to all of the egg salad.
He replied, "Oh, I shared some with a guy at work." Generally speaking, my heart would melt at my husband's senstivity and kindness to others, but remember, I am hormonally challenged at the moment.
"YOU WHAT?". He quietly repeated himself, " I shared it with a guy at work."
I quickly find an opportunity to fling something onto the coffee table in an effort to demonstrate my irritation. Knowing full well, his eyes are fixed on me. "You are NOT pissed about that, ARE you?" he asks in shock.
"YES, I am, it pisses me off. Why can't he get his own lunches? He canceled on you last week, so WHY would you give him food? He's unreliable!."
I hear my husband mutter, " I can't believe you are mad about this. Whatever."
My mind is reeling with "JERK! What A JERK! Of COURSE I am mad! What a jerk. "
In order to avoid a blow out, I quietly turned back to my book. Within a few minutes, as my insides caught up with my brain, I mustered, " I think I hit a wall, I better get to bed."
It wasn't until morning that I really ingested what had set me so off the night before. Oh yes... as the room came into focus and my thoughts began to align, I recalled that I was angry at my husband for... Oh NO! I did it again! Shoot shoot shoot! Egg salad? Oh LORI! Why???
And ONCE again, we start off the day with an apolgy.
With each passing day, I love my husband more, never knowing previously the depth of his patience. His forgiveness comes before the apology. He doesn't hold it against me. If it wouldn't potentially piss me off so much I would buy him a vacation far far away from me, to reward him for his stability. Instead, I just wake and "sorry" and set things right in the world again.
With five more months to go... I am not sure how he's going to make it!