The other day I went to Sprouts market to check out their breads and to see if they had any brownies. The misses had specifically said she was hungry for brownies. I picked up a few things but I couldn’t find any brownies. I looked and looked and when I was certain no brownies were in the store, I settled on a block of Old Dutch Milk Chocolate. Actually this block of chocolate looked much like a double layer of four good sized brownies. I bought it. The misses may have appreciated my hunt for brownies but she didn’t appreciate the block of chocolate. She wouldn’t eat it. I felt bad but I wouldn’t allow the block of chocolate to go to waste or be thrown out. I carried the heavy, thick block to my office where it lay for three or four days while I mourned the loss of confidence the misses had in me for finding brownies. I blew it, I knew it but it was something I could not now help. One night after I had had an afternoon nap and the missus had gone to bed, I sat at the computer, sleepless and saw this block of chocolate, still unopened, sealed and taped up. I sled it over in front of me. I looked at it. It still had the same inviting look it had the day I bought it but I knew in my heart of hearts, the little chocolate block was heart broken because it had been rejected. I tried to explain to the little chocolate block that the missus was really a kind hearted woman and would not hurt a soul if she could help it. I told it how the misses had fallen in Sam’s store, how she had passed out standing in line and had fallen over backwards, how her head had bounced off the concrete floor, making a loud noise similar to a bongo drum. How she had lay unconscious until the ambulance arrived and took her to the emergency room with a severe concussion. As a result she lost her smell and taste. It has been almost a year and a half and she still has no smell or taste. She really should not be blamed for not wanting the chocolate block. On the other hand it has been my custom to handle for the missus those things she is unable to handle for herself. That’s my role now. Sometime when faced with a really tough decision I asked myself, “What would Jesus do?” He would no doubt take up the chocolate block, divide it among himself and his followers in equal shares. They all would eat it. I have no followers. I opened the center desk drawer and took out a three bladed pocket knife. I try to keep it sharp for those times when a knife is needed, like now. I slit the wrap around label. I stuck the blade between the top and bottom corner and raised one edge of the knife upward. The container popped open. The chocolate was a big heavy piece of hard chocolate. I sliced of a sliver of one side. It didn’t slice easily. I stuck the medium sized slice in my mouth. The block smiled up at me and I couldn’t help myself, I smiled back. Allow me to tell you how it tasted. It tasted like cocoa and sugar mixed together. When the slice had slightly melted I tongued it under my lower lip. The action brought back memories. As kids we used to mix cocoa and sugar and pitch a bit under our lower lip, pretending it was snuff. We were just like my aunt Em and grandma and grandpa Quillin, having our ‘after meal dip.’ The chocolate is still on my desk although not as much of it. Its safe to say I will watch over and protect it until it is gone. My, my, the things we do for those we love.