Louie Pasteur Would Be Proud

I love croissants.  Especially topped with a delicious sweet chicken salad.  I buy them in bulk at Sam's.  They freeze up nicely, thankfully, since you get a ton of them.  I bought some before we went to Florida for Chloe and Grammy to have while we were gone.

When we got back, I made chicken salad and planned to finish up the croissants that way.  I had one and then the next day I was going to have another one.  I pulled it out and it had a tiny spot of mold on it.  Gross, right?  So I say, "Man!  I wonder if they all have mold on them?"  Hubbie says, "if one has mold on it, they all have mold on it."  I contemplated invoking the What-I-Can't-See-Can't-Hurt-Me rule, but decided I didn't want to hear about it, so I ate my chicken salad with Ritz crackers instead.   {Same buttery deliciousness...  It was a rather pleasant substitution!} 

Later that day, I go in to the kitchen to find the husband eating one of the croissants!  "What are you doing?!?!?" I demanded.  "I thought if one is moldy they're all moldy?!"  He shrugs his shoulders and says, "Eh.  Whatever."

Now you're probably wondering why I didn't throw them away when we deemed them rotten earlier that day.  I'm asking myself that very question, but I would like to deflect your attention from my laziness back to my husband's grossness.  More like his sneakiness.  He obviously just wanted them for himself.

Rude.