Where did my cake go?

So, my friend Lindsay came back from visit her family in Arizona while her husband was doing interviews. While she was gone I made sure that her fish were fine, her plant was hydrated, her apartment was fine, and also sent her the messanges in her answer machine, you know in case that Ron would get an important call. Ayway she came back from her trip last Friday. As a thank you she made me a cake call BETTER THAN SEX!. What a name for a cake, I couldn't believe it when she told me the name. This Americans really have some weird name for meals or dessert, don't they?. Anyway this morning I saw the last piece. I thought that I'd keep it for later on. After dinner to be precise. I had to use all my straight to not see it again until was the right time to eat it. After dinner (which was great by the way) I decided to give the kids a bath they were too messy by the end of the day. I could heard Glenn cleaning and putting everything away. Oh my dear husband, always thinking in make my life easier. Anyway, there was a moment of total silence, I thought Glenn was probably enjoying the moment of being alone downstairs. I was done with the kids. So we went downstairs to start with family home evening. All about thanksgiving, of course in my mine I was just thinking "OH YES I'LL FOR SURE SEND A THANK YOU NOTE TO LINDSAY THIS CAKE IS SO YUMMY I'LL EAT IT AS SOON AS EVERYBODY GO TO BED" after those thoughts I couldn't keep the smile out of my face. Anyway, Glenn had to go to sleep early as usual, and as usual he was so kind to put the kids on their beds, while I was reading my magazine that another friend provided me. Anyway finally I heard some snoring, so I thought it was the perfect time to eat my delicious cake. I went to the fridge and I saw a big bag with left over that Glenn was so kind to put it away so I'd not struggle tomorrow to make something. So kind he is. But the cake wasn't there, mm I thought it may be behind the left over, but there was nothing behind it. Finally my heart started beating so bad, I couldn't find the cake anywhere. I practically shake the fridge to look for my cake. But there was nothing, not even the plate. I'm not the kind of wife who likes to wake up her husband, but this was an emergency. What could I do, so I ran upstairs and went to my room, and see him there sleeping under the covers, so kind, so cute, so handsome, BUT HE PROBABLY ATE MY CAKE! Anyway, one of those moments came to my mind, imagine myself shaking him and asking him HOW DARE YOU TO EAT MY CAKE?. But then what was I thinking, that cake was driving me nuts. So I finally decided to write in my blog and take this out of my chest. I'm still mad at him for eating my cake. So I might go tomorrow for the recipe and put a big note on it DON'T EAT ME, CLAUDIA IS WAITING FOR ME!. Perhaps that way nobody will eat it. In conclusion I honestly can say that that cake is not better than sex, but indeed it is very addictive.