"Your Dog Ate My Muffin"

My husband, Michael, came home from a morning workout. "I was a very bad boy . . . ." he said, his face scrunched and eyes tight.

"What's up?" I asked.

"At Starbucks, I got my usual latte and muffin. Sat on the patio and checked email. Suddenly a woman came by with a standard poodle on a long leash. Dog came over and ate half of my muffin."

I start laughing. "Please go on."

"I shouted, hey dog lady, your dog ate my muffin."

No response.

"Your dog bit into my muffin," I yelled. The dog turned and drooled muffin with crumbs on its nose.

No response.

"Dog person. I want a new muffin."

No response.

I am laughing exercising stomach muscles now.

Michael continued, "Finally her friend came over. I asked her if that woman was some kinda princess?"

She said it was her friend and asked, "How much was the muffin?"

 "Two dollars. I'd eaten part of it too."

"Then what happened?"  I asked. 

"She handed me two dollars. I went inside and ordered another muffin. The barista asked me about getting another muffin."

"The dog ate the first one," I told him.

"Oh,"  the barista said with a not understanding expression.

"Only in La Jolla,"  I said.