You enrolled me in the "Muffin of the Month" club? You shouldn't have!
No, seriously. You should not have enrolled me in a muffin club. Of all the things that I want to be a part of, eating copious amounts of muffins every single month for the next year is not on the list. I somehow managed to stifle my incredibly nosy tendencies and did not open the package. However, I did begin daydreaming about the flavor possibilities that lay inside for the remainder of the day.
Fruit and nut?!?
When he arrived home, I began a Spanish Inquisition-like barrage of questions upon my better half.
Why did you order muffins on eBay?
Are we part of a club now?
How much is the annual fee?
Do the muffins require refridgeration, because these were out in the sun all morning. Is this a problem?
Turns out there were, in fact, no muffins inside the muffin box. It was an awful, baked goods ruse that yours truly fell for quite hard.
So what was in the muffin box, you ask? Why, a Great Dane-sized red plastic beer bottle drying rack, of course. You know, because we ARE paying members of the "Brew your own beer at home in the basement like a mad scientist" club.
Also, we belong to the "It makes perfect, logical sense to remove the insulated fiberglass blanket from the water heater so that we can keep our beer warm in the basement to optimize brewing conditions" club.
I didn't say it was a smart club, I just said it was a club.