Before Christmas, a box came in the mail with no return address. My wife said, “This could be anthrax.” I thought: Nah, anthrax isn’t trending, and opened the box. It was baklava. Right away, I knew the real poison—sugar.
I shouldn’t have eaten the baklava. I’d already had a piece of birthday cake and then one more sliver. Then I had to even the cake out with a knife.
Whoops! Want to read more?
Become a member to get these perks:
-
-
-
-
-
-
- Read all our bold, bodacious articles by top writers.
- Get discounts on trips and events, including Paris, Italy, Scotland, New York City.
- Join our members-only "Tribe" community to connect with like-minded women.
-
-
-
-
-