Worthy Witness

I was starting to say my goodbyes when I noticed the pan of marshmallow stuff on the counter.  The gracious daughter of my host was pointing to it and saying, “But you can’t leave yet, we haven’t had dessert, and you need a s’more.”  I thought that’s what they were, and I really wanted one, but I was choking and starting to cough.  My allergies to cats and smoke were getting the best of me, and I needed to leave before it was full-blown.

Nate had already started the jeep when I climbed aboard, and the air conditioning would soon sooth my bronchitis-type laboring.  Lying back, I breathed the shallow, quick breaths they had shown me at the clinic.  I could feel the tenseness leaving my body, but my thoughts of the s’mores on the counter were making my taste buds hop around.   “Nate, I need a sundae, a hot fudge with marshmallow topping.”  “I thought you wanted me to stop for a bottle of water?” he said.  “No, find a Friendly’s.”  Ever willing to accommodate me in the small things of life, he took a sharp left through Canton.

Somewhere between Canton and Unionville, I fell asleep, and Nate did what he thought was appropriate.  He took me home.

As I always do, I woke just as we turned the corner into our driveway.  Disappointed, I went off to bed with visions of chocolate and marshmallows and graham cracker sandwiches.  I awoke fresh and gave no more thought to what I had missed; this was a new day.  I decided to have a healthy, meatless meal and invited friends to try the stuffed, grilled red peppers with salad, basil infused bread and iced tea with a hint of freshly squeezed lemons.  For dessert I served a compote of beautiful strawberries with fresh whipped cream.  We enjoyed piping hot coffee with a touch of cinnamon at the river’s edge, calling it a day at the first bite of mosquito.

Chocolate could not have been further from my mind  when the late movie paused for an ad of Hershey’s kisses.  I rationalized that I had imbibed late-night caffeine, and should certainly not eat the Hershey’s bar in the cupboard.  That lasted for half a second, and my irrational self, the side that is slightly – well considerably – overweight said, “Go for it.”  I tried not to disturb the dogs who were lying on either side of me; glad that Nate had retired early.  We had a mouse the other night, so I had to bypass the sticky traps that were arranged as only a military man can.

Success!  I plopped on the couch and tore open the familiar packaging.  I thought about having one of my super-sized marshmallows with it, but couldn’t justify the excess calories.  I turned off the television, checked the door locks, and switched off lights. The minute my satiated body hit the temperpedic, I was out – until the caffeine and sugar found each other.  I knew it wasn’t time or the right day for zumba, but my nerves were playing a rumba beat.  I laid down; I got up; I had water; I laid down.  My mind could not turn off.  I went back to the kitchen and chugged down the forgotten calcium chaser.  Bliss! after 3 p.m.