This weekend, I discovered a very bad thing. I don't know how I missed it all these years. It's not like I hadn't heard of it. It's not like I hadn't seen it. But I had just walked past it as if it were of no consequence. Until now.
I don't know what drew my eye towards it as I walked past. I don't know what impulse caused me to retrace my steps. I don't know why I did it. But I did. My arm reached out as of its own accord, plucked the jar off the shelf, and tossed it into my basket.
If that had been the end of it, everything would be fine. But that was only the beginning. I got home and unpacked the jar. I walked to the pantry to put it away. Instead, I got down the graham crackers, pulled a knife from the drawer. I opened the jar. And there it was. Nutella.
What twisted mind dreamed up this fiendish concoction? Hazelnuts. Chocolate. Enough sugar to choke a horse. Blended into a smooth, creamy spread that calls to me with its siren song long past the time when I should be snacking. Bananas nestle in it. Peanut butter dances with it on my cracker. It clings sensuously to the finger I trail oh-so-lightly across its sleek dark surface.
My only hope is to finish the jar as quickly as possible, to remove the temptation. Wish me luck.