Melts in Your Mouth ... by C.L. Beck

© C.L. (Cindy) Beck


Photo © Rodrigo Moraes, Wikimedia Commons


Russ bought a huge bag of M&Ms recently. They're the kind that call to you in your sleep … and when you're in the shower … and when you're working on blogs … and when ... well, you get the idea. I finally succumbed to the alluring siren's song, cradled the bag in my arms and took it in to Russ's office.

I stroked it lovingly, and then, coming to my senses, said to Russ, "I can't keep my New Year's resolution to lose weight if you keep buying candy, especially peanut M&Ms."

"Sorry.” He patted me on the arm and looked contrite, but I wondered if it was really a love pat or something else. Was it a subterfuge and he actually wanted my candy?

Pushing the paranoia aside, I tightened my grip on the bag—just in case. Then reason took over. "If you're going to buy these, at least hide them someplace where I won't find them. Like under the bed." I could feel myself responding just like one of Pavlov’s dogs to the sight of the bright green and red candies on the package and I swallowed hard to keep from drooling.

Russ said, "You want candy put under the bed, with all the dust bunnies?"

Clearing my throat, I stroked the bag again, and surreptitiously tore one little corner open. "No, that was just an example. I want you to not buy them, but when you do buy them, put them out of sight."

He looked at me, confusion evident in his eyes. "Okay, so I'm supposed to buy them and put them where you can’t find them?"

"Yeah, something like that." Then, with a burst of virtuousness, I shoved the bag into his arms and said with a sob, "Quick, hide them!"

Russ lifted one eyebrow. "Are you okay? This isn't exactly life and death here, and certainly not something to cry over. If it's that big a problem, I'll just throw them out." He stood up and leaned toward the trashcan.

Thinking quickly, I grabbed his arm. "No! Not in there. It'll bring bugs if you put candy in the office trash. And besides that, it's against the law and morally wrong. Here, let me take them up to the kitchen."

Russ stopped, moved the candy out of my reach, cocked his head and stared for a minute. "Why are your eyes dilated?"

"Umm, oh ... aaah." I thought long and hard. It would never do to say it was because I’d realized I’d made a mistake in giving him the bag, and was ready to kill if he didn’t hand me back my M&Ms. "Because I just came back from the eye doctor."

Russ looked at the clock on the wall and then at his wrist watch. "It's 10:00 at night. You went to the eye doctor in the dark, when the rest of the world is going to bed?"

"Sure, that’s when he checks his patients’ night vision."

“Who are his patients? Owls?” Russ shifted the M&Ms behind his back, and I sidled closer. Corky Porky Pie, the dog, walked into the room, probably sensing the tension. Either that or smelling the delicious fragrance of chocolate. My chocolate. My chocolate covered, peanut M&Ms that Russ was not going to keep from me.

I lunged for the candy, and Russ pulled a maneuver to rival Jerry Rice. No, not on the dance floor—Jerry Rice on the football field. It did no good, though. Trickery and treachery will beat out speed and agility any time. I stuck out my foot and tripped him. The bag of M&Ms hit the floor. Nothing spilled and I realized the gods were on my side and actually wanted me to eat those chocolate covered peanuts.

Grabbing the candy, I ran up the stairs while tearing the bag open with my teeth. Ha! Nothing could stop me now. No one, no how, no waaayyyyyy—

I tripped over Corky Porky Pie, who had somehow managed to jump in front of me on my rapid ascent up the stairs. M&Ms flew everywhere, and Corky Porky apparently thought it was manna from heaven, as he scrambled with his fat, little legs toward the nearest pile.

They say love can cure anything, and in that instant, I knew it was true. Chocolate is toxic for dogs, and I placed Corky Porky Pie’s safety over my need for a chocolate fix. I grabbed him and held him as Russ swept up the M&Ms—my luscious, lovely M&Ms—and dumped them in the trash.

Afterward, Russ came over, gave me a hug, and told me how proud he was of me. I smiled, and a feeling almost as good as eating chocolate swept over me. I’d done it. I’d saved Corky Porky Pie and sacrificed my M&Ms. I was strong, I was invincible.

And I had five M&Ms stashed in my pocket that no one knew about.


------© C.L. (Cindy) Beck------


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