Solid Messy Mass

Not being an optimist is problematic at times like this, for the tendency to despair can preempt hope. However, the side of me that wanted peanut butter and chocolate was stronger than the side of me that wanted to chuck the ‘buckets’ away in frustration. Logic and reason argued strongly that the congealed mass of mixed up melted chocolate, peanut butter nuggets and little brown wax-paper cups, now solidified at room temperature, would be nigh impossible to eat without ingesting an unsatisfactory and unsavory amount of wax paper. Additionally, the prospect of the mess (all over my hands, all over my face, and who knows where else) was not appealing.

However, the memory of how those peanut butter cups tasted had been etched into my brain housing group almost at the top of my internal list of most savory tastes. I could not just accept the fact that I could not eat them. I would at least have to open the ‘buckets,’ survey the situation, and allow my unsatisfied desires—augmented by the smell of the freshly opened container of peanut putter cups—to offer a solution.

So, I opened the buckets, and this is what I saw. It looked pretty hopeless, but not TOTALLY hopeless. An idea was forming in the dark recesses of my chocolate-loving consciousness. Like the chair saga, this has a happy ending—but like the chair saga, you’ll have to endure a few more ‘chapters.’

Semper Fi, Jon G.