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Anyhow ok so like last night he walks in with this big ole' bag of potato chips and plunks himself RIGHT next to me on the couch and starts crunching away. I stare down the greasy-sure-to-put-me-in-a-starch-sugar-coma bag of poison and give him the LOOK. He's like, "Wut?" So I went to the kitchen to make deviled eggs. What's he do? Oh he's lonely so he follows me into the kitchen, puts the bag on the counter, grabs some of my dip out of the fridge and continues.
I about popped a cork. Kicked him and the chips out the kitchen. I have evil plans for that bag if it's still lurking in my kitchen cabinets today.... plans for the TRASH.
Eventually I did tell him I hated it that he purchased my very favorite binge food, the one that always hit me hardest and brought it not just into the house but right next to me to eat it... TWICE!!! He doesn't see that it's that big a deal.
It's almost 8 am and I'm still fuming.
The part I love about writing these experiences down, however, is the payoff. I just realized that I stared down the chips and didn't eat them. I made an alternative snack instead. Still pisses me off though.
Tom didn't arrive like I thought he would. I know I'm in perimenopause, and I know I'm pitching a fit because my husband ate potato chips. Sheesh. I need to get out today, go do something productive. Think I'll go work in my classroom.
Perhaps if you tell him that he can buy those chips and eat them ANYWHERE but in the house...work, car, etc. Maybe that would help. You could make a list of things that are hardest for you to resist, post it on the fridge as a reminder for him of what he CAN'T bring into the house.
Just a thought.