Hash Browns, and other wild accusations...

So, McDonald's has decided to sabotage my marriage.
I was tasked with producing a 'Big Breakfast, w/Hotcakes' [no sausage].
I drove, to satisfy the estrogenical cravings...one does NOT challenge the cravings of a mad woman (pregnancy qualifies, I promise).
I purchased the contraband.
I looked in said bag, confirming (through the now convenient 'see through lid') that indeed, there was no vile sausage (on, near OR even within the same bag, would pollute the fluffy goodness of pre-steamed fake-cakes).
I even saw the butt end of a Hash-Brown pocket, and evidence of my sausage McMuffin's existence (yes, the irony of prior admonishments followed by my own pork-laden perfidy, did not escape me).
I returned home...gleeful that I could chalk up a 'mission-accomplished' for husbandly-nicities (this being necessary, as a man must bank as much equity as possible to bring up during labor...or he shan't survive the experience).
Wife unpacks bag, begins grumbling, and then turns...shaking an utterly empty Hash-Brown packet at me...accusations abound.
Even with the evidence of NO grease inside the pocket, I am incapable of proving innocence.
There is no smell of hash-brown in the bag, in the car or on my breath.
It doesn't matter, as the empty package is laid in front of my place-mat...accusingly...maddeningly.

I can hear it's rustle, the crinkle of waxed paper...
I buried it, you see, beneath a napkin...
yet I hear it's tell-tale crinkling
Louder, Louder, LOUDER...

Yet truly, I AM innocent...but she doesn't believe.