It's local strawberry season in South Carolina, one of my favorite times of the year. As soon as I saw the strawberry sign by the side of the road, I whipped my car into the parking lot of the Peach Stand, went in and came out with a couple of quarts of tasty goodness.
At home, I decided to guild the lily by dipping some of the luscious berries into dark chocolate. We were having a friend over for dinner and I thought that would be a yummy ending to a homemade meal.
The chocolate I'd melted covered more berries than I needed and I knew if I didn't do something, I'd eat them all on the spot. Instead I took a plate to my neighbor's house. His granddaughter was visiting and I knew she loves berries as much as I do. Together the two of them wolfed down the chocolate-covered fruit in no time. Strawberry juice was running down their smiling faces.
That night dessert was a big hit at my house too. When the meal was over not a trace of chocolate remained. Or so I thought...
That evening as I was brushing my teeth, I saw my reflection in the mirror and got that same queasy feeling of awkward embarrassment that usually washes over me when I realize I've been talking all day with broccoli stuck between my teeth. (Why does no one ever tell me?)
My elbow was covered with dipping chocolate.
Classy.
1 comment:
Aw... that's nothin'. I went through half the day during a BBQ at my house once with mayonnaise on my boob! And it wasn't due to any pre-bbq fun, either. When it was time to eat, I'd gotten the potato salad out of the fridge and apparently dipped my nip when I set the bowl down! An hour or two later when I went to the bathroom, I noticed it. Faced with washing it off and leaving a big wet spot where the mayo was, or questioning looks when I changed shirts in the middle of the party, I chose the latter. No one said a thing.
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