I found the red punch powder. Scott found a hiding place in a cabinet, I wouldn't look in.
I know he did. He loved that stuff.
Which reminds me, as I sit here sipping my coffee with whipped cream on top, when I bought this can, I told Scott not to use it, it was for my coffee. A couple of times, I doled it out to him, placing a big white creamy dollop on his pumpkin pie, that we bought way ahead of Thanksgiving.
A few weeks ago, Scott watched as I poured a big glass of pineapple juice, his juice into my glass. He couldn't not say something. I had to hear about it from the refrigerator to the couch. The juice didn't taste good after that.
We were really good about sharing, but some things we hid and hoarded. It's really ridiculous when you think about it. I would hand over my whip cream and never touch it again if Scott was back. Who cares, I can always buy whip cream.
I'm not going to touch the red punch powder, though. I'm keeping it in the cabinet where Scott stashed it.