I love chocolate. It may just be my best friend. Pathetic? I think not. Chocolate is always there for me, whether I’m sad or when I need a snack. I always have a way of finding it, no matter where it’s hiding. And when I do find it, there’s no stopping me. I guess you could call me an Augustus Gloop.
If this were my dining room, it would need a daily refill.
I was 3, maybe 4 years-old, when I discovered Nutella. To keep my toddling self away from the jar, my mom found it necessary to put it on the top shelf of our pantry. And what kind of chocoholic would I be if I stood back and accepted defeat? Augustus would do it. I had spotted the target. Now, my mission was to make my way up the pantry to the top shelf, grab my beloved Nutella and hop back down to solid ground without anyone finding out what I had done. I easily managed to reach the first shelf but I was scared to venture any higher. With the Nutella a little more than an arm’s length away, I swatted at it, hoping it would come into easier reach. On my second try, I touched the jar and it came down. Down, down, down past me. The glass jar hit the ground with a loud shatter. You’d think I would retreat and pretend like I had no idea what was going on, but I didn’t quit. I was actually quite satisfied. I found a clear spot by the mess and sat there. Then I began to eat. Little did I know, that a shard of glass that had broken off from the jar was stuck in my leg. Of course, I was completely oblivious to anything non-Nutella related at the time, until my mom walked in and cruelly took me away from my chocolate. I remember being bandaged up by my nanny but not much after that. Nutella stopped making glass jars. Now, I often visit the plastic ones.
You can have the semicolon, I’ll take the space bar.
This is a bright idea.
Comedy gold, I tell you.
They look useful, but chocolate only has one purpose. Any guesses as to what that might be?
Chocolaty greetings, Sarah M.