It was just sitting there. In the dark. All alone on the counter. To the right of the fridge, downwind from the coffee nips hidden in the cupboard and in front of the decorative plastic rooster napkin holder. A good distance away from my television-watching parents in the living room and resting in the kitchen blind spot.
I had to have it. Just a taste. A mere spoonful wasn't too much to ask for.
My eyes had turned into devilish pinwheels of glee and my tastebuds were tingling. I knew that if I snuck down the hallway real quiet-like, a pre-pubescent chubby mouse if you will, I could possibly be stealth enough to silently glide past the back of my mom's head without her seeing me since she was the force to be reckoned with. God knows I could do jumping jacks with a wolverine on my head in front of my father and he wouldn't notice a thing.
I kicked off my shoes and in my rainbow toed socked feet shuffled to the edge of the dining room, held my breath, sucked in my tummy, and tip-toed around the corner of the bar past the dang phone hanging on the wall that I brained myself on every god damn day, and into the kitchen. Just a few more steps and I would reap my major award. Ha! No one could see me now, no one could stop me, I just needed to be very, very quiet.
I gingerly leaned over the glistening white tub and stared at it for a minute in awe. And as my eyes adjusted to the dim light I saw the glorious words written across the top. COOL WHIP. Oh, the joy of an unprotected tub of creamy delight. I didn't remember my mother buying one of my very favorite treats recently but no matter. Dad had eaten all of the ice cream and this was better anyway!
I put my little fingers on the edge of the lid and oh so silently and carefully bent it upwards, then as gently as if I was handling a new born baby bird, lifted the top off and noiselessly placed it on the counter. The frothy white goodness beckoned to me. It called my name. It dared me.
I raised my hand above my head, thrust my pointer finger to the sky with silent triumph, then dipped it into the container all the way to the bottom scooping up as much as I could. I opened my mouth in sweet anticipation of the sugary treat I was about to eat...
And much to my utter horror and shocking nasty gagging surprise I discovered that the fucking Cool Whip tub was fucking filled with white fucking paint.
Tuesday, November 21, 2006
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