Adventure with a Cocoanut Cream Pie.

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It calls to me.

That sweet sugary goodness in all of its confectionery glory lays waiting for the time I can come to rescue it from its cold isolation.  Its flaky crust... its smooth cocoanut filling…sweet cream piled high on top.  It waits for the moment I can come to claim it. 

It’s not mine.  The pie doesn’t belong to me.  I have become Eve in the Garden of Food tempted by the forbidden baked good from the Refrigerator of Knowledge.  

I wrestle with my temptation every day.  Whether it’s a juicy cheeseburger with thick cut bacon or a box of assorted doughnuts, I gorge myself until there is nothing left of the cool and controlled person I was only moments before. 

Only one bite, but that’s never enough.  Maybe one piece…exquisite.  Soon I jump into a diabetic’s dream; fluffy whipped icing, wonderful hard candy that gets stuck to your teeth, rains of sprinkles and chocolate chips pore over me as I dive headfirst into a vat of pudding.  I indulge with all the enthusiasm of a child.  I am the queen of all sweets.  My crown is made out of cookies and an éclair is my throne. 

…
 
…

I shouldn’t have eaten that.  

The aftermath leaves me wrought with guilt.  I can still smell the cocoanut.  A few drops of cream landed on my shirt giving evidence of my crime.  In my panic and remorse, I run back to my computer.  I try to forget it ever happened, but still the smell lingers reminding me of that precious moment we shared.

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