Saturday, September 19, 2009


A few days ago, sometime around noon, since I was still wandering around in my nightgown, hair resembling the flying nun, (you're all too young to understand that reference, I know. Me too) I zombied over to my nightstand, shoved a paw into my chocolate stash and pulled it back out...EMPTY! "What the H?!" I blinked a few times, hard, and then like cold water to the face, was hit full force by the reality of my situation. Chocolate. Gone. Oh. No. Who was in charge, here? How could this happen? And how had my hoarding instincts gone so completely awry?! I had to act fast, but since I wasn't appropriately attired to go out into public (unless it was Walmart, and I just wasn't in the mood to dress down) I had to make do with what I had around the house.

You know, we've all heard the stories of alcoholics running out of liquor and becoming so desperate that they go to the medicine chest and knock down a bottle of cough syrup. "Who does that?" I would ask, galloping along on my high-horse. Now I know, people. For I, too, have been brought low. Two words. Chocolate chips. Two more words. Semi-sweet. Ew. Whinny, snort, hind leg horsey kick, and me flying through the air.

After my less than gracious fall from grace, I staggered back to my feet, dusted off my rump and grabbed my inner Scarlett, screaming to the heavens, "As God as my witness, I shall never go hungry again!!!" Luckily, nobody saw this.

Anyway, I threw myself together and tore down the road to Target, where I purchased...and I am NOT making this up...NINE bags of chocolate, people. Seriously, NINE. I know. Should have been more. Everything from Hershey's kisses (assorted fall flavors) to Ding Dongs, Choxi chocolate covered cherries (more fruit) and giant Hershey bars. Usually, I'd have thrown in, oh, I don't know, a bag of apples? Just so the cashier wouldn't judge me too harshly~we've all seen that raised eyebrow a time or two. But this time, no pretense. No pride. Just chocolate. I didn't even wait until I was out in the car before I tore into a couple of bags. I was drooling chocolate before I even got my car door open. Thank you, Jesus! (I know that sounds blasphemous, but I was sincere.)

I'd like to say this stash-o-chocolate lasted~for even the rest of the day~hey, I never professed to be made of steel, ok? But a lesson was learned, friends. A life lesson. And that is...hold on, I have to open another kiss. Ok. That lesson is this. Hoarding is good. Hoarding is our friend. Make certain before going to bed at night that you have enough...PLENTY, even...of whatever YOU need to make it through the next day. Rabbit poop ice, chocolate, liquor~whatever. As the Boy Scouts have taught~be prepared. 'Nuff said.


Kara Elmore said...

ONCE again ... I have been uplifted, and can now continue my lesson on drug abuse and the Word of Wisdom! I sincerely hope that all around you will stay clear of "the stash". And my favorite part ... hold on, I have to gather another hand full of M&M's ... my favorite part was knowing I'd get more and more from you!

Joe said...

When my kids are grown, they will reminisce about how Her Hotness and I never shared our stashes with our kids. "Can I have some?"
We're horrible parents. But "yes" to them means "Sure! Finish the whole bag!" We have learned to hide our stashes.

Nine bags? Nine. Does not *zzt-thunk!* compute.

Lisa said...

No, Joe. It does not compute. Once again, the difference between genders.