Monday, June 28, 2010

Shsss....Don't Tell

I am having an affair. We meet, my lover and I, every morning for coffee. We sneak in a second clandestine meeting sometime during the afternoon...near the toaster oven, and one last embrace occurs right before I go to bed.

I am not the only woman seeking out this lover, this comfort. We girlfriends are many. We whisper his name. We giggle and squeal with glee as we find out we have the same addiction, the same crush. We know it is bad for us. His name is Mr. Nutella.

His smooth cocoa goodness is too good, too tantalizing. Resistance never wins. I tell myself to hold off, to savor and balance. I examine my growing love-handles, but I throw all caution to the wind and spread his hazelnut protein on to my lightly toasted potato bread. At first I was happy with one piece of toast for breakfast. Now I need a stronger fix and insist on two with my morning coffee.

I keep telling myself I’ll cut back, that this will be the last of it. But he and I both know I’m lying. He knows I’m weak and he plays upon this. He convinces me that he is a legitimate source of nutrition. He encourages me by claiming he’s very “European”...a staple at the British breakfast table. I’ve always been a girl swayed by art and style, and so I indulge. I tell myself I’m being Parisian. I am a skinny, French woman who can pull off a scarf and look fashionable---something out of a 1940’s romance flick.

I no longer keep it from my husband. I announce, “I need a fix!” He knows where I’m off to. The kids are in bed, quick, a spot of tea and a bit of toast and Nutella. My jitters subside, and I can relax, rest, and soon fall asleep. The chocolate kisses me good night, and I sleep like a babe.

Summer is coming and so there is tension. I want to look good. I don’t want to be a stay-at-home mom who slowly expands as I climb toward 40. I want to be fit. I want my thighs to love me back. But I also want instant gratification. And so instead of buying the small jar, I reach for the 20 oz. tub off of Winco’s top shelf.

Nutella makes it onto my monthly grocery list. It is now as common as rice, toilet paper, ground beef, and bananas. It has moved from treat to necessity. It controls me, not I it. And somehow I feel no guilt, shame, or desire to free myself from its addictive powers. Instead I dream of one day saving up my proofs of purchase and owning a tacky t-shirt with the letters N-U-T-E-L-L-A. This I will wear with pride, blazing across my chest.

5 comments:

Diana (Ladybug Limited) said...

Ooo, Rebekah, you've got it bad! Is it all my fault for bringing it to MOPS?

And yes, it was very wicked of Winco to start stocking the bigger jars...

Valerie said...

Hahahaha! You got the Nutella fever! Troy and I stocked up on this last year when we were costco members. Yikes, it is very addicting and you think you will only eat a few and end up eating much more! Right now, we don't have one at the house...unless one of us gets it, we try not to have it or else...there goes our diet! :-D Welcome to the club of Nutella lovers!

Laura said...

I've never had Nutella. I'd better not, it sounds way too addicting. Maybe more than chocolate! Like cookies we try not to have in the house too much or we just eat our heads off till they're gone. Don't you wish we could just eat whatever we wanted like when we were in our 20's & it didn't matter?

Jessica said...

You are so funny! Such a fun read, even though I'm sorry to say I don't share in this affair. :)

Heidi C said...

hilarious! loved reading this one, thanks for the late afternoon chuckle. my guilty pleasure yesterday was ice cream sandwiches and a cupcake left over from gabriel's party. glad to know i'm not alone in needing the fix!