Wednesday, February 15

It's got to be the thought that counts

Scene from Valentine's Day 2006 at my house:

Daltonboy: Here, Honey. This gift is for you.

Me: For ME?!?

Opens a package containing a gigantic box of Whitman's chocolates.

Me: ? ? ?

DB: I got it because those are your favorites.

Me (feeling face turning red): ?

DB: Right? I remember you saying you loved Whitman's chocolates.

Me: Um . . .

DB: I remember you saying your grandma or somebody gave you a box of those chocolates, and how much you loved them.

Me: No, I think you remember me saying that thirty-five years ago an old lady from my church gave me a box of these chocolates, and I ate half of them before I discovered that they were full of maggots. And then I said I would never eat another Whitman's chocolate again.

[Besides, grocery store chocolate is gross. But we can go into that later.]

DB: ? ? ?

Me (trying not to cry. or laugh.): Yeah.

DB: What? I was so positive you said you loved them.

Me: Well, I did. Until I discovered they were full of maggots.

DB (confused and chagrined): But . . . you said you loved them.

Me: No. I never said that. Why would I say that?

DB: I don't know. Why did you say that?

Me: I didn't. But it's okay, really. I really appreciate the thought. And the fact that you listened to the first half of my story. That is really very touching. And look at it this way: I'll have something to blog about tomorrow.

DB (laughing): Yeah. That's what I thought. It's what I live for, really. To be your blog fodder.

So . . . I've got some chocolate over here, just sort of sitting. I've checked, and it doesn't seem to be maggot infested this time. Anyone interested?

9 comments:

stupidramblings said...

Did it happen in '65? Cuz that's when the great maggot migration happened...

MamaJ said...

You seem to have consumed quite a few insects in your life. I'm beginning to wonder whether you have a subconscious liking for them. So, I'm curious. Are we to assume that these original chocolates had been stored for several years in an open container, or was it a problem with quality control at the Whitman's factory?

daltongirl said...

stupid: Was '65 thirty-five years ago? No. It was forty-one years ago. Therefore, my maggot experience cannot possibly be related to the GMM. Unless of course a couple of the maggots dug in at the Whitman factory and lived there for six years, raising their families in captivity, which I have suspected for some time now.

mamaj: I'm pretty sure Whitman's doesn't allow any of their stuff to leave the factory before it's been there several years, and I'm equally certain they don't employ quality control people, so I guess that question will never be answered. Too bad. It would be nice to have a clearly defined culprit.

stupidramblings said...

You are funny...

ambrosia ananas said...

So now you go out and buy yourself some chocolate that you like. And use the Whitman's stuff to distract the rest of the family from your good chocolate.

Limon said...

There is something so touching about a man listening to half of a story. It's what love is made of. Just like that sweet movie Charlie. What a perfect depiction of lifelong happiness.

Th. said...

.

No. Not really.

Cicada said...

I received chocolate for Valentine's Day from my visiting teachers. That was kind of them, especially since I had no chocolate in the house and I craved some. Too bad they didn't bring me a box of Whitman's chocolates... some people in the world are grateful for any gifts.

Of course, the gift of listening to stories in their entirety outweighs the gift of chocolate.

lola49 said...

that was soooooo sad i feel like crying right now :'(