Death By Chocolate
Last night we got a hankering for ice cream, so I went out and bought some. After looking the ice cream freezers up and down, reading ingredients etc, I finally settled on Perry's Death by Chocolate. It sounded delicious- chocolate ice cream with chocolate-covered almonds, chocolate truffles and fudge chips.After I dished it out and my son, Ellington, and his friend, Amos, were happily scarfing down their portions, it hit me. I was feeding them a product that was advertising itself as fatal. DEATH BY CHOCOLATE!!!
D E A T H ! ! ! Suddenly I felt panicky. There they were, happily and rapidly shoveling spoonfuls of frozen death dessert into their mouths!!! It wasn't even like you had to read the fine print. It wasn't a little disclaimer that anyone could overlook. "Warning: ingesting this delicious chocolaty dessert product may result in serious injury, or death." No. This wasn't that. This was DEATH BY CHOCOLATE. Big print. Really big.
If deadly ice cream had a innocuous monicker, such as DELICIOUS CHOCOLATE EAT IT UP REAL FAST ICE CREAM and a disclaimer on the back, I believe, disclaimer or no, that the company would be remiss. And, enraged over the pointless and tragic death of my son, I would sue the pants off them. But, in this case, the company couldn't have been more upfront about the fatal properties of their product. DEATH BY CHOCOLATE. It was advertised blatantly. And as I watched Ellington and Amos licking their lips, I pictured myself in a court of law, not suing the Perry's Ice Cream people, but defending myself in front of a jury of my peers. I, my head hanging in shame, crying and explaining the tragic events of that night. My hankering for ice cream. My excitement over the promise of chocolate. How I first dished out two bowls for my son and his friend. And how, before I had even taken a bite of my own ice cream, the two teenage boys had keeled over right in front of me.
Witnesses, mainly employees of the supermarket, would one by one take the stand and say things like, "I can't believe she even bought that stuff. What kind of person would buy a product with that name? And for her own child?" As the jury glares at me and shakes their heads, I take the stand. The prosecutor glowers, "And what was the NAME of the ice cream you fed them?"
If deadly ice cream had a innocuous monicker, such as DELICIOUS CHOCOLATE EAT IT UP REAL FAST ICE CREAM and a disclaimer on the back, I believe, disclaimer or no, that the company would be remiss. And, enraged over the pointless and tragic death of my son, I would sue the pants off them. But, in this case, the company couldn't have been more upfront about the fatal properties of their product. DEATH BY CHOCOLATE. It was advertised blatantly. And as I watched Ellington and Amos licking their lips, I pictured myself in a court of law, not suing the Perry's Ice Cream people, but defending myself in front of a jury of my peers. I, my head hanging in shame, crying and explaining the tragic events of that night. My hankering for ice cream. My excitement over the promise of chocolate. How I first dished out two bowls for my son and his friend. And how, before I had even taken a bite of my own ice cream, the two teenage boys had keeled over right in front of me.
Witnesses, mainly employees of the supermarket, would one by one take the stand and say things like, "I can't believe she even bought that stuff. What kind of person would buy a product with that name? And for her own child?" As the jury glares at me and shakes their heads, I take the stand. The prosecutor glowers, "And what was the NAME of the ice cream you fed them?"
"Death By Chocolate," I feebly answer.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the court. I rest my case."
What was I thinking?
As luck would have it, the ice cream didn't kill us and it was really, really delicious.
But just to be safe, I am taking back the jar of "Death by Mayonnaise" that I just purchased.
Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.
"Ladies and Gentlemen of the court. I rest my case."
What was I thinking?
As luck would have it, the ice cream didn't kill us and it was really, really delicious.
But just to be safe, I am taking back the jar of "Death by Mayonnaise" that I just purchased.
Go ahead and click on the teeny envelope icon and send this post to a friend. Don't be jerky and claim that you wrote it because I wrote it, damn it.
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That graphic photo of Ellington & Amos, dripping to their deaths on the floor really brought the point home. How COULD you? For shame, for shame!
Dear Cat Lady,
Luckily, I had my camera with me.
Sincerely,
Sondra Stinglash
when you find death by gin, sign me up, will you?
thanks for stopping by and visiting me (shall we go do one of those "rock the frock" things in our starter wedding dresses?) because then it made me stop by you.
you're funny.
:-)
/julie
julochka-
If I can't wreck a journal that has a title telling me to wreck it and has easy to follow instructions on each page, then I am not ready to Rock my Frock, BUT...
I am going to start the Book Wrecking project soon.
Baby steps...baby steps...
Thanks for visiting! I enjoyed visiting you.
Death by chocolate? I'm there, it could be worse...
PS. You should definitely do the wreckage with us... says the girl who signed up for it but has't actually started yet! But I AM doing it this week! Promise!
B-
Group wreck? Sounds interesting. Where do I sign up?
-N
I am hoping to due via chocolate in my sleep...it might be a little messy but at least it will be painless...hahaha
Dear Mr. Meatbag,
I agree.
Sincerely,
Sondra Stinglash
P.S. Thanks for the visit. I visited your blog- That Klaus was very funny.
Dear Miss Stinglash,
I find it disgusting that you would attempt to get "humor" out of two children's near death experiences. You disgust me. Obviously you should take up a less funny hobby such as... engineering for example.
Cordially Yours,
Amos
Regarding the Amos comment-
HATE MAIL!!! I GOT HATE MAIL!! THAT MEANS THAT AS A BLOGGER I HAVE REALLY MADE IT!!!