Life is Like a Box of Chocolates

I bought my husband a box of chocolates a few weeks ago. It wasn’t for Valentine’s Day. I had actually forgotten to buy them when I was supposed to, so when I saw the chocolate store there next to Target, I thought, “Better late than never.” Aaron (my much better half) likes dark chocolate, only dark, and no sticky caramel. I picked out a one-pound box for him: “Give me two of those, and one of each of those, and the rest dark-chocolate-covered cherries.” Then I bought the last four milk-chocolate-covered raspberry bunches for my daughter and left feeling pleased with myself.

Aaron was surprised and delighted when he opened the box and saw the assortment. There is nothing quite like a freshly opened box filled with chocolate. The aroma. The visual temptation. It’s just magnificent. (Is your mouth watering yet?) He had two pieces—just two—and then put the box up high in the pantry so the little boys couldn’t get at it.

Unfortunately, he did not put it up high enough so that I couldn’t get at it.

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