This is an automated archive made by the Lemmit Bot.

The original was posted on /r/tifu by /u/sendy_side on 2024-10-03 03:33:16+00:00.

Obligatory “on mobile” disclaimer.

So it’s not what you’re thinking. They’re not that kind of special. To give a little back story, my wife and I have been trying to eat healthier lately, tracking our calories and protein and vitamins, minerals, all that. Over the last few weeks, we’ve realized that, on a good day, we get maybe 15 to 20 grams of fiber, despite eating vegetables and fruit with at least 2 of our meals. So we’ve been dedicating extra attention to upping our fiber intake, and now we’re getting at least 20, sometime up to 40 grams a day.

So, today, I come home and my wife is sitting on the couch. I go into the kitchen, and there is almost a whole 9×13 pan of brownies sitting on the counter. I ask if she’s saving them. She says no. I ask if I can have some. She says “of course baby, eat as much as you want, they’re healthy.” That was all I needed to hear. I grab one and start eating it. It’s a little dry, texture is a little off, but it’s not bad. I start on dinner, eat another one. At this point, I think it’s important to say that the hardest part of keeping my calorie intake down is I snack if given the opportunity. Not bad when it’s carrots or cherry tomatoes, but if there’s sweets, they have to be out of sight or I’ll find myself just grabbing and eating without thinking about it. A bad habit from when I quit smoking and snacked to keep my mouth busy, I guess.

As I finish cooking, I realize I’ve eaten five of these brownies. So, I do the logical thing and grab a sixth, eating it as I walk of the living room to tell my dear wife, who said to eat as many as I want, that I might have to make her some more brownie and I’ll need the recipe for her healthy browned. She gets a confused look on her face, followed quickly by concern, and replaced almost immediate with amusement. “Honey,” she says, “how many brownies did you eat?” “Six,” I say, after swallowing the last bite, slightly apprehensive at her poorly concealed amusement. “Why, is something wrong?” “Well that depends on your time frame for wrong, honestly. Right now, no, nothing is wrong in 30 minutes to an hour? Maybe.”

At this point, I’m beginning to get concerned, and she, thankfully, didn’t keep me waiting for long on the reason for her amusement. “I didn’t make those brownies. My coworker did. I told her about us needing more fiber and she said she had the perfect recipe. Each one of those brownies is supposed to have about 7 grams of fiber in them, and you ate 6 of them.”

At this point, I knew I had made a horrible, horrible mistake, but I tried to reason with myself. Maybe I’ve been getting enough fiber that it won’t be like the time I jumped from almost no fiber to eating a fiber 1 bar with an Olli pop with my lunch and painted my backside with blue porta potty water 45 minutes later. Maybe it won’t be so bad, besides, how could 1 brownie have 7 grams of fiber? They weren’t amazing, but they were better than the fiber brownies you get at the store. Alas, my hope was for naught. No sooner had I finished dinner, and my stomach rumbled in a way that spoke of the horrors to come. Immediately, I made haste to the porcelain throne, yelling to my wife that she would have to serve dinner tonight. No sooner had I taken my seat that the floodgates were blown wide open. I’ll spare you the details, but suffice is to say that I was seated on my throne for over an hour, and needed a shower after.

Suffice is to say, my rear is tired, the bathroom still smells of my regret, and my wife can’t look at me without chuckling and has made it known she will be telling the evil person who made the brownies about how well they worked on her poor, unsuspecting husband. I will be asking how healthy these random snacks are from now on.

TL;DR, in an attempt to get more fiber, my wife’s coworker made brownies with 7 grams of fiber and I ate 6 not knowing, and paid the price for it.