Not locusts

So far this summer we have avoided the plagues that usually descend: tornados (okay not here), hurricanes (okay, not here either), Bubonic (ditto), and the most dreaded plague of all: ants. Sure, there’d been a few minor episodes, but nothing threatening. That is until last night.

Now last night’s plague was not of Biblical proportions, but it nonetheless cut to the quick. They went after the chocolate. Around here this is a serious offense. And it wasn’t just any chocolate, it was my husband’s treasured Summertimes from See’s Candies. These candies are rare and coveted because they are only available in the summer—hence the name. It is those, and not the garden-variety chocolate bars, that the little buggers went after.

I ran into the kitchen (he’d been eating them in bed!) with the box, dropped it on the counter and asked my husband what he wanted me to do with them. He just kept saying “save the chocolate” with a dazed expression on his face.

He used the vacuum cleaner to vacuum them off of the carpet and the bed with a vengeance seldom seen. He lovingly combed the surface of each candy for the dreaded interlopers.

Much ado about nothing you say, but at the end of the day, he did indeed save the chocolate.

We all need to have attainable goals.

Last night a friend I went on a store run during a get together at my house. It was reminiscent of all the times in the past I have done this. Except that we didn’t go out for beer or wine or tequila, we went out for chocolate.

Does that mean that we’re dull? Old? Sexually repressed?

Maybe I don't want to know.