Even this fat, lazy, diabetic isolationist was willing take a shower, strap on a bra and walk across the street for a Chocoholic program at the library tonight. Of course, I used Morgan as my beard. So I couldn’t understand why several of the street urchins from our apartment complex would show up sniffing around the meeting room door w/o their mothers. Come on, put down your crack pipe for some free chocolate!
As we were getting seated for the Power Point presentation (making us wait for dessert), a librarian was shooing away Christian and a few of his elementary-aged friends. It was already 6:30 at night. In February, that means it’s been dark for over an hour. Do their mothers look out the window? Do they know their kids are at the library? Do they care? You gotta wonder. These are young children who parents can’t legally leave them home alone. But somehow it’s okay to inflict them on strangers out in the world alone.
I guess the nice library lady felt bad enough (and there was enough chocolate) to allow the three kiddos to come in for the sampling part of the program. Not fair! But in they burst. Grabbing their paper plates like Dickens orphans and squirming to the head of the line. The two librarians had the foresight to cut and serve their portions of pudding, brownies, cookies, candy, cake and ice cream. Least there be childish gluttony, followed by adult anarchy. We are chocoholics, mind you.
The sugar babies were still licking their plates when we left at 8 o’clock. The library closes at 9. And it’s a school night. Even for nocturnal homeschoolers, that’s too late for any nine-year-old to be runnin’ the streets with a chocolate buzz.