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A Chocoholic-gift For A Chocoholic
By Chris Morgan
A Chocoholic-gift is too good for most. When you smell it, you
want it. When you taste it you want more of it. My friend
coined a phrase.
"I like it, I love it. And I want some more of it." I wouldn't
have ever imagined in my wildest dreams that I am addicted to
chocolate; I don't smoke, drink alcohol and I don't really
have any negative vices that I know of.
I looked into my past to find the truth of the matter, and it
is absolutely true, no two ways about it. My mother tells me
that when I was three, she would always hold me on her hip
when she was cooking or she would put me in a highchair (not
fun, not fun at all).
Although, when I am in the chair she either gives me a toy or
something to eat (the good part). I can almost remember the
first time watching her bake a chocolate cake.
I found out years later that she was a baker (or a bakeret).
Any way, I watched her every move, she got some eggs, flower,
sugar, vanilla and this little contraption to blend the
ingredients.
After that she puts the batter into pans and puts them into
the oven. Another good part starts. She gives me the
spoon and bowl that had the batter in, and I went to town.
A few minutes latter she cleaned me up. All the time I am
smelling something that smells like daddy before he leaves
to go to work.
It smells like something that I should eat. She puts me back
into the highchair (and I'm bewildered as to what is that
smell is?).
Craning to see what she is doing with the stove, she pulls
the oven door to reveal the layers of the cake. She then puts
each of them one on top of the other.
Then she went to the refrigerator and produces my favorite
playmate, a bottle. Watching her every move she gets that
contraption again and mixed these ingredients, some milk
and some brown flower.
She then puts her pinky finger into the bowl and into her
mouth while saying mmm'mm. At that point, I lost all control
and fumbled and dropped my friend to the floor.
After picking up my friend she did another replay with the
pinky finger except she put that brown stuff right into my
mouth.
Only the best sensation I ever tasted. I know why my mom
said mmm'mm. That was my first word and since that time, I
would not drink milk unless it was chocolate.
To make a long story short, two years latter, I grew a lot
of teeth. Every week my pop would give us an allowance. The
idea was to save the money.
Of course, I have other ideas for my allowances. You guessed it,
chocolate. When I go to the corner store and get to the
register, there are all kinds of chocolate to choose from.
Chocolate, mint marble, dark chocolate some with nuts
(scrumptious), filled with caramel, milk chocolate center
rapped with dark chocolate mmm'mm. This place is chocolate
heaven.
I only recently learned that there are two types of chocolate
ice cream. One is used for ice cream cones and the other is
used for floats and malts.
The soda jerk gave me a comparison test and the ice cream that
is used for malts is the creamiest. When I was like eight or
nine, I made a promise to myself that when I get grown, I'm
going to buy a box of three musketeers and eat each and every
one of them by my self.
That promise still stands to this day. I have eaten a box of
them but I haven't eaten all bar from the same box. I am looking
forward to that day.
That reflection into my past confirms my suspicions. That
Chocoholic-gift didn't just walk away, I ate it. That
Chocoholic-gift really had no chance.
Any Chocoholic-gifts in my house are mine. I confess, my name is
Chris and I am indeed a chocoholic and proud of it.
About the Author
Chris the owner of http://iflsecrets.magneticsponsoringonline.com/?mad=922
has found and uses this bridge for her marketing fitness. She is more than happy to share this uncommon knowledge to all those that thirst for business longevity.
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| Some other articles by Chris Morgan | |
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