It’s so cliche.
I know it’s cliche, but that doesn’t make it any less real. That thing I hate to love.
It’s chocolate. Most specifically, mint chocolate. And while we’re at it After Eights.
It’s been a battle for so many years that I’ve finally acquiesced and given into it. Somewhere between my 9 year old daughter introducing me to her classmates and saying my favorite food is chocolate and me growling at said daughter who tried to gently ask for just one After Eight half an hour ago.
Life is to be embraced I tell myself, and the joy that I get from one, two…ok six of these heavenly filled delights is worth the 4 k’s I’ll have to run in the morning to assuage my guilty indulgence(s). Why lie, maybe they are just the impetus I need to kickstart the get up and go. Hazy memories, confirmed by a shocking number of empty After Eight sleeves mocking me in the morning from my bedside bin.
One day I’m sure I’ll be done feeling guilty about this, my un-grownup addiction. Clearly not today as it took all of a one second to realize what I had to write about when I saw the prompt that thing I hate to love.
Either that or my grown-up self will finally learn to accept that thing. And hate it no more.