I have made my peace with snack and snacking
Standing in my kitchen plucking potato chips
from a shallow bowl at 4:40pm. It is my appetite
and I will spoil it.
Chocolates in the office fridge. Just one more left
oh no more. mmmm that was good and I deserved it
kinda. 1:55pm right before 3rd grade. Yes I ate the last chocolate
because I could.
Grapes would be nice. I mean they are nice right now sometimes
sometimes not. Red seedless the kind my mother always kept in
the crisper (is that what it’s called that bottom drawer in the refridgerator and how do you even spell fridge correctly?
A produce man once told her to hold them up to the light. The better you could see through them the sweeter they would be. She believed him.
I buy grapes and turn them upside down in their plastic case just to make sure they
are not rotting
yet. Grapes are good.
Apples work. Blueberries ask to be eaten quickly.
Snickers hide on the top shelf of the candy cabinet.
10pm ice cream is my heart’s true weakness. So so
creamy sweet with caramel and brownie pieces melting together.
Knowing what an affront
such an intake implies to all nutrition wisdom, I scrape my spoon against the still sticky
sweet bottom of my lovely cup of sin and extract the final remnants
that can be collected with an implement.
It’s not that I have no shame
but that the shame is
I have made my peace with snacks and snacking
This is middle age.