Shame Thyme

I confessed a sin to my husband while I was drunk. I wouldn't have done so, but I forgot that I hadn't already unburdened myself.

We were feasting & drinking with our friend Frances. I asked if she had dined at a Olive & Thyme recently. It hadn't been open too long & I figured she would have stopped by, food lover that she is.

I had eaten there several months prior & had found it delicious. She responded that she had also enjoyed her meal & we went on to praise the sandwiches, the wine selection & the dessert. That's when I unintentionally dropped my bomb.

You see, I felt bad about eating there without Jared. On my way out I purchased a few pastries to take home so that he wouldn't feel left out. One whoopie pie & one salted chocolate caramel cookie later I was out the door.

My car was parked across the street. I made it about 4 steps from the restaurant when I heard the siren call from the white box in my hand.

"One bite!" I figured.

Have you ever tried to munch a whoopie pie while crossing the street? One bite? Impossible! I took a large bite & discharged a good portion of the filling into my hand.

"Shit shit shit....ooooooohhhhhhh my lllaaawwwwddd is this fantastic!"

A few steps later I was at my car. I had trouble climbing inside since I was busy licking whoopie pie filling off of my right hand while simultaneously chewing & fumbling for my car keys with my left. Sitting down in the 200 degree vehicle I stuffed the rest of my husband's reward into my face & commenced to feeling shame while also sucking the last crumbs off my fingers.

"That may have had a bit too much sugar in it for my taste." I decided. Now that I'd gorged on the damned thing I'd decided to become a critic.

I turned the (sticky) key in the ignition & pulled away from the curb. Once I was a good block away I had a great idea: The whoopie pie had been too sugary! You know what balances out sugar? SALT! I happened to have a chocolate salted caramel cookie in the passenger seat, nestled among the tissue paper. Lonely in it's pastry box without the whoopie pie to hang out with.

I hit the stoplight a few blocks from the restaurant. Somehow my hand crept between the seats & started fumbling with the white box.

No. This is wrong! I can't do this! This cookie has 3 of Jared's favorite things in the world in it! It is custom designed for him! I must not!

I had already broken off a piece.

I put it into my mouth. I swooned so hard I nearly drove off the road.

It. was. perfect. Not too sweet. Not too salty. The chocolate was richly flavored, but the texture was light. The caramel teetered on the edge of burnt, but the salt kicked it back into perfection. The combination was sinfully delicious.

I had eaten the whole thing before I hit the next stoplight.

More shame. More guilt. More sticky fingers clutching the steering wheel.

The answer was simple. I had done nothing wrong. I hadn't eaten those sugary tokens to my loving husband. I hadn't bought any pastries? I hadn't bought anything. I'd had lunch or dinner or whatever & had come home. Nothing. Else. Happened.

I got home & threw the pastry box & the receipt into the dumpster. I didn't dare take the evidence into our home.

I casually mentioned that the restaurant was good. That we should go together soon. That I had seen a lovely dessert display on my way out. I was home safe!

I always tell Jared everything. Always. Much to his chagrin. I thought I had blurted out my embarrassing secret. Normally when I try to tell him something awful he mentions that I've already disclosed whatever it is & forgotten about my confession.

Not this time. There was Frances. There was gabbing. There was food. There was a river of wine flowing down my gullet.

I laughingly told her the story. I looked over at Jared. He looked hurt.

"You ate my cookie!"

"No! I mean...yes! But I thought I told you!"

"No!"

"Damnit. Want some more wine?"

More boxed Shiraz helped to drown his pain at being deprived of the cookie. I still felt bad. I still do.
So today I stopped by Olive & Thyme again.

I bought him a bunch of pastries. Rocky Road cookie. Pistachio Macaroon. Black & White mini cake. Some other cookie, too. I can't tell you much about it beyond that it tasted like shortbread with chocolate chunks.

I couldn't really tell what else was in it. I was kind of preoccupied.

I was driving while I ate it.