While foraging in the kitchen tonight, I found this packet of Hersheys Kisses squatting at the back of the cupboard. They were a forgotten souvenir from my last US jaunt when I had a 764 hour layover at LAX – and the mistaken belief that cheap chocolate would somehow make it better. My joy at finding them is totally out of proportion with their sublimely average taste.
Also at the back of the cupboard I found a bottle of vanilla essence (the posh sort), organic cocoa powder and ground cinnamon. I have no recollection of purchasing these items – all I can assume is that once upon a very deluded time, I imagined I would continue on the Martha Stewart/Nigella path I had so diligently furrowed in New Zealand.
I must have been drinking – or sniffing the cleaning products – when I bought this stuff, because no-one in possession of their faculties would wish to spend more than 10 minutes in the shit-hole that is the Slum's kitchen.
But very, very soon cherubs, I shall once again live in a grown-up house...
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