He Knew Before I Ever Said It...

I had my third Kaplan class last night. It felt good to ease back into things after the accident.

The Boyfriend had gone to see a movie (Inside Man...he highly recommends it), and I hurried home to watch an episode of America's Next Top Model, which I had taped (seriously, best show ever...Tyra is so dramatic, I could watch her forever...but not on her talk show, which is the worst talk show in the history of the world).

I was relaxing on the couch, surrounded by cats, and happened to see a slab of dark chocolate out of the corner of my eye. The Boyfriend had left it on the coffee table. He buys them in bulk at Trader Joe's because he has serious issues with chocolate. If he were to pass out, I would probably try to slide a tiny piece into his mouth, knowing that it would revive him.

I don't have these same issues. Mostly.

I reached my arm out, delighted that it came to rest on top of the giant chunk of chocolately goodness. And there it goes, right to my mouth. Bite, swollow, and repeat...and repeat...and repeat...infinity.

I finally stopped myself. Shortly afterward, I heard The Boyfriend's car door close. He walked through the door.

"You know", he said, "I love the feeling of walking from my car, knowing that I'm coming home to you." Ah, that's the sweetest thing ever!

My reply, "You know, I feel like I need to set a boundary. Please, do not leave large blocks of chocolate within my reach."

I'm not sure if he heard that last part because he was doubled over laughing.

"Go look in the mirror".

Sidenote: Every woman fears becoming her mother. Instead of fearing this, I've embraced the fact that I'm morphing into her more every day. Case in point, my mother is physically incapable of making brownies or anything chocolate without having a large portion of it finding it's way around her mouth. Interesting.