This is a reprint from my blog on 3/10, but it certainly is appropriate as I go through another year of chocolate withdrawls. I have to wean myself in January. I decided that I can not go cold turkey.
I actually made that decision on New Year's Day, when I discovered half a bag of Ghiradelli's choclate chips stashed on top the fridge. I bargained with the devil, er, I mean myself. I'll ration myself ten a day, one or two at a time. I have been good so far. Read on to discover how pathetic I can be.
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," I closed my mouth, 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."
I grunted from my gut, "Uh-huh" and wondered where I'd met him. How could I not remember this gorgeous guy? He sure knew me.
"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, (technically I wasn't Mrs. W. anymore) 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.
He declined.