Security cameras are everywhere today. We're captured on security cameras in restaurants and stores, gas stations and stop lights. Some people have placed cameras around their homes for extra security.

My wife would like to get security cameras at our house.

Me: "That's a good idea. We can't be too careful. I'll have them installed. Where do you want them?"

Wife: "In the kitchen."

Me: "The kitchen?"

Wife: "Pointed at the refrigerator door. There is a refrigerator thief in this house. Somebody has stolen the last of my gourmet cheese."

It dawned on me that this conversation had taken a turn for the worse.

Me: "Do you have any suspects?"

Wife: "You and I are the only ones who live here. You and I are the only ones who open this refrigerator. I know who did it. ‘Somebody' did it."

Me: "But ‘Nobody' can prove it."

Wife: "Didn't you see the sign on the cheese that said ‘private property! Do not touch.'"

Me: Sometimes when I open the refrigerator door I'm blinded by the light from inside when it flashes in my eyes."

Like everything in our house, my wife and I share responsibilities when it comes the refrigerator. She puts things in. I take things out. Sometimes I take things out faster than she can put them in.

Sometimes when I carry groceries in from the car, food disappears before it can even make it to the refrigerator. But, enough talk about ice cream.

I try to be discrete in my refrigerator raids. But my wife can hear the refrigerator door opening from the other side of the house.

Wife: "What are you doing in the refrigerator? We just had dinner."

Me: "I'm just checking to make sure everything was put away properly."

Wife: "You finished off the ice cream. There's none left."

They say leftovers should not sit in the refrigerator for longer than one week. In our house, it's a miracle if they last more than one hour.

I know when my wife is planning to serve leftovers again. I can tell by the way food is wrapped in the refrigerator.

When something is wrapped two or three times with aluminum foil, placed in an airtight container that is sealed with a wrapping of cellophane – there's a good chance these are leftovers my wife plans to serve again.

The other night we had meatloaf. It was unbelievably good and later that evening I found the package in the refrigerator – aluminum foil, airtight container, cellophane, all wrapped around the leftover meatloaf. It was irresistible, but I knew a trap had been set. I had to be very careful.

I got out my cell phone and took photos of the container from four different angles so I would know how to put it all back together. I unwrapped everything very carefully. This time when Somebody ate the leftovers, Nobody would be able to tell.

Finally I got to the last piece of aluminum foil and pulled it aside. I was in a meatloaf frenzy. And there before me was a note: "I told you the meatloaf is for dinner tomorrow. Give up. It's hidden and this is a decoy."

I think it's good when a woman knows and understands her husband.

But sometimes she can know and understand him too well.

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