That’s right. A full 10 pound bar of Guittard bittersweet chocolate. OMFG. Who knew such a thing existed outside of my own imagination? I did know that there were 5 pound Hershey bars, though. When I was in 3rd grade we had one of those contests on Valentines day where all of the students had to make as many words as they could out of the words “Valentine’s Day.” I don’t mean to brag or anything, but I don’t get beaten in English contests. Ever. I’m competitive to a fault as is, even with things that I have no business competing in, but it gets progressively worse when it comes to wordplay. If they had adult spelling bees, I’d be lining up outside like someone trying to enter a New York nightclub. I figured I’d win a cheap cupcake baked by some no-talent ass-clown of a room mother, but really the glory would be enough to reward myself for my effort. But after I won, the teacher pulled this spectacular hunk of chocolate out of her desk drawer and I almost passed out. I remember bringing it home wrapped tightly in my arms, forgetting my backpack on the school bus in my haste to get the chocolate bar to safety. I walked in, and my mom said something like “How nice! We can use it for (insert some idea here).” I panicked, ran up to my room, and spent the next two weeks gnawing off great hunks of it with my teeth like some sort of sugar-happy beaver gunning for a case of adult-onset diabetes. So this was like that, but better. And if I’d have known this would happen in my twenties, I would have gone back in time to tell 8-year-old me that the best was yet to come. But since time travel isn’t possible (yet), I’m just excited to have my 10 pound bar today.
Here’s what happened: Chris and I went to the mall so he could study at the Starbucks while I wandered around trying to find things I could justify buying. Notably, I needed to find a dress for our rehearsal dinner. I found the one I want, BTW. It’s a pink Prada shift dress with a belt, and it’s the cutest damned thing I’ve ever seen. I put it on, and it made me physically taller, thinner, blonder, and richer. Suuuuh-weet. But then I looked at the price tag and thought I would die. I left the store, fairly inconsolable, and wandered back to find Chris. While we mulled over the possible purchase, we wandered around Williams-Sonoma and absentmindedly stroked some All-Clad pans. But then I saw it. A big box that I didn’t recognize. Typically, I know everything there is in that store, and where it’s located (and usually how much it costs). So I ran over to investigate and found out it was a 10 pound solid bar of Guittard chocolate, and it was on sale, so we bought it. No questions asked. A giant bar of chocolate isn’t something you just pass by without buying. It’s unreasonable to even think about doing so.
I didn’t buy the Prada dress. Yet.
“But Kristie,” you may ask, “What are you going to do with a 10 pound bar of chocolate?” Hahahahahaha, say I. What am I NOT going to do with it? I’ve got a small sampling of possible activities for me and my new friend:
1-Take it to the zoo
2-Watch old episodes of Designing Women with it
3-Get it drunk on cheap pinot noir and take nude photos of it to post online
4-Marry it in a church of its choosing
5-Hold it close to my heart and tell it how much it means to me
6-Dance around in a field of daisies holding it and singing “So happy together”
7-Discuss my hopes and dreams with it
8-Share a special hug with it and produce children. Butterfinger brownie children, to be exact.
9-Give it a makeover and maybe let it wear my new Prada dress
10-Let it ride in the basket of my bicycle
11-Share a beer with it on a patio in the sun
12-Fall asleep with it wrapped in my arms
13-Cut it into tiny pieces and store it in my freezer so it can never leave me, ever again. Oh no, I’ve said too much.