It's actually not a Good Friday after all

Why why do I let stuff bother me?
We get a phone call from some people down the street who had a package of ours delivered to them by mistake, so my husband goes to pick it up. It was addressed to him, let's get that straight.
It was from Russell Stover's. The kids were helping him open it and he said,
'I didn't order this. Your Mom must have done it.'
Wha-?
Yes, I am such a big fat pig that I order candy THROUGH THE MAIL, and have it shipped to my husband to divert attention from the fact that I am such a big fat pig. I said,
'I did not order candy through the mail.'
Ended up being a gift from his sister in Illinois.
I cannot tell you how stupidly upset and hurt I am that my husband's instinctive response, even when the package is addressed to him, is that it was mine.
And of course I have to tell him how upset I am that he thought I ordered candy through the mail and of course now he is mad at me. I forgot to walk over those eggshells. I do that, sometimes. And then pay. At least I can be thankful he isn't physically abusive, just verbally and emotionally.
Zaababy out.