Sunday, March 14, 2010

One Sweet Mess

Like most women, I covet chocolate, the darker the better. As a mother of young children, I tamed temper tantrums (mine) with M&Ms that I kept stashed high in a cupboard. When my son or daughter said, "Mommy, I smell candy," closed-mouth I chewed fast, swallowed hard and responded,"Probably your scratch and sniff stickers."

When I became a preschool teacher, I loved the perks. Kids offered me kisses at recess, the chocolate kind. One day I discovered an open bag of chocolate chip morsels that my co-teacher had intended to use for a science experiment later in the day. There must have been a thousand little niblets of delight in that bag, and I knew she wouldn't miss a few. Confident that she was with the students on the playground, I looked up and down the hall, and then I closed my classroom door. I stuffed not one, but two fists full of those itty bitty bits of divine rapture into my mouth. At one time! I was immersed in pleasure, my eyes closed, my head rolled back in ecstasy chewing as fast as I could when the door opened. Panicked, I straightened up, held that wad in my mouth like a baseball player with a chunk of chaw in both cheeks. A good looking, substitute milk delivery man looked wide-eyed at my swollen jaws. He nodded hello and kept staring at me as he handed me the purchase order. I tried a tight-lipped smile as I autographed his paper. I probably could have pulled it off, except that he had an Aha Moment; I could see it in his face.

"Well-well-well, helllooo there. It's been a while."
Although it had only been a week between deliveries I grunted from my gut, "Uh-huh."

"I do believe my twins, Clark and Amanda were in your class about ten years ago. Aren't you Mrs.---?"

Grinning like a ninny, and lying big time, I shook my head from side to side. Out popped a chocolate chip, up popped my hand, out bugged my eyeballs. I tried to swallow, but the gob of goo started to drip down my esophagus, and I almost choked. I did what any teacher worth her salt, or chocolate would do. I spat those flavinoids into the waste basket and wiped my mouth with a tissue. Then I offered a true confession and the bag of chocolate chips to the milkman.

(Roll over Erma)

6 comments:

Lisa Ricard Claro said...

HA HA!! That reads like a Lucy skit. Omigosh, that really cracked me up. My dogs are looking at me like I've lost my mind...

I'm a chocoholic as well. I love my Peanut M&Ms. When they came out with the dark chocolate ones I thought I'd gone to heaven. (You know the calories escape as soon as you open the bag.)

Linda O'Connell said...

Lisa, Thanks for your comment. For the last two weeks I've been calorie-letting before I munch my Girl Scout Thin Mint cookies, I break them in half.

Pat Wahler said...

That's the trouble with chocolate. You can't stop at just one piece.

Julia Gordon-Bramer said...

I remember hearing you read this at the Mack! It was hysterical then and now!

Tammy said...

Hee HEE!!! That was thoroughly delicious! What a treat!!!

Denise Mussman said...

I'm a chocoholic too! The summer I was 16, I was an exchange student in Belgium. The chocolate was unbelievable, still is, but we didn't have imported chocolate back then. Anyway, I was so depressed and lonely that I gained 25 lbs. from eating it. Once I even shop lifted it because I was so desperate!