Did you ever do something that you knew your DH would be furious with disappointed in you if he knew? (For you purists, this is not technically a quilting story.) Well, I did just last weekend. This is it:
We had a few people up to the mountain house for a "hot dog roast", and I was being real "uptown" and serving Nathan's Jumbo Kosher Wieners with every conceivable condiment and fresh-from-the-bakery buns. Now, you must understand that DH is mildly germaphobic. It was a cooler than normal evening, and while the others were talking and noshing on the appetizers in the cabin, I was by myself out on the deck roasting the dogs on our relatively small grill. (DH does NOT grill!) When they were perfectly broiled, I carefully picked them off the grill, one-by-one, transferring them to a wood cutting board. As I bent over to remove the grate from the barbecue, as frequently directed by DH so that the juices would not burn onto it, the kosher dogs had a revelation that if they just rolled over one turn, they could escape! And there they ALL went, right off the deck and four feet down into the pine needles!
Stifling a reflex to yelp, I took the tongs and, putting the LED flashlight into my teeth, I climbed down and retrieved them from under the giant pine tree that lives at the corner of our flagstone deck. I carefully brushed off the five inch pine needles, lined them up on the board, covered them with a cloth and served them, still hot, for dinner. Everyone raved. I admitted nothing.