Some days are like that

Hi everyone,
David speaking, 1-16-14
Yesterday I needed some chocolate. Most days I don’t think about it much but yesterday I couldn’t stop wanting it. My breakfast cereal with blueberries was good, but believe me there was no chocolate involved. By midmorning I was in the kitchen opening cupboards. Nothing. No misplaced Hershey’s Kiss, no candy bar, not one thing sweet and chocolaty and chewy. I went back to work feeling sorry for myself.

For lunch I had soup, a good soup with plenty of meat chunks and vegetables. I enjoyed it very much. But something was missing, if you know what I’m saying. I made another futile search and trudged, sag-shouldered, back to work.

Yes, my car was in the garage. There’s a store roughly three minutes from our house. Yes, I could have run down there and back and fixed my problem. But I wanted to work and sometimes it’s just better to be a martyr.

Sandy came home. We had a drink that had no chocolate in it. We had a delicious dinner of meatloaf, carrots, and salad. We had no desert. Our TV isn’t working so we sat and talked and caught up on the papers. I decided to dish some ice cream, the last of the homemade from a week ago. I opened the refrigerator. And there in the back, hiding behind the orange juice, was a small container of aging cookie dough! Chocolate chip cookie dough. I bought it the last time I went after pizza.

There was just enough dough in the bottom of the container to make three petite cookies. I spooned out the ice cream, baked the cookies, and marched triumphantly into the living room, a hero in my own castle. Someone should have played Pomp and Circumstance. We snacked like royalty. I even gave Sandy the bigger half of the cookie we split. And then, not long after, it was off to bed.20160819_070857_resized A day filled with high drama and anxiety ended well. Today. I. will. not. think. about. chocolate.

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14 comments on “Some days are like that

  1. Chocolate Jones

    Some days are just like that.
    You think about chocolate for a moment,
    then it fills up your life.
    You ransack the house,
    memories of old chocolates
    stored in the back of the fridge,
    behind the bread box,
    even in a forgotten tin
    left over from Christmas.
    Already the stores are filling up
    with chocolates for trick-and-treating,
    You could drive downtown in minutes
    But this is not just about chocolate,
    it’s about the hunt and the reward.
    It’s about the chocolate medal.
    It’s about virtue vs pure greed.
    It’s about the state of your soul.

    ©2016 Jane Yolen all rights reserved.
    All chocolate found, eaten.
    Cause actually it’s really all about the chocolate.

    • Jane, I know you’re in Scotland but somehow you tracked me around my house taking notes. How else could you nail it like this? XO

  2. someone might ought to rehab a discarded, chocolate-brown UPS truck & fit it out w/ Milky Ways, M&Ms, & Hershey Bars in order to make deliveries in the case of such emergencies

  3. You definitely nailed it with your narrative about needing a fix to quiet that nagging chocolate monster. I was right there with you, in the kitchen, at midmorning, looking over your shoulder as you scoured the pantry. I was thrilled to see your lunch choice is one of my go-to choices but could feel your pain as the chocolate gnawing continues. I marveled at your fortitude when you decided not to give in a walk to the store and continue your writing. I sat with you as you enjoyed your dinner and your special time talking. I rejoiced with your discovery of the chocolate cookie mix. As a strong proponent of desserts, I was ecstatic with your quick and satisfying dessert. I could now rest, along with you, that the chocolate monster was satiated and would go back into hiding … until … the next time it raises its head.

    • Thank you, Beverly! Glad you came by today. You’ll have to come to my next virtual party in a few months. I must say that all this talk about chocolate is making . . . . me . . . . NO! I won’t! Besides, we ate all the cookie dough.

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