Five Pounds of True Love

You may recall my mentioning that the Diet From Hell does not allow chocolate. This is not strictly true: it forbids dark chocolate, if you ask me the only chocolate worthy of the name, but it does allow white chocolate.

White chocolate may be a pale imitation of the real thing, but one learns to make do; one may in fact get so good at it that one's husband expresses a certain dismay at one's rate of consumption, and suggests that one might try abstaining, at least for a day or two. (I insist on Ghirardelli white chocolate, which at least contains actual chocolate liquor. Did you know that until recently the government had no labeling standard for white chocolate, and that it was perfectly legal to sell a concoction of sugar, vanilla, and various unpronounceable substances as white chocolate? Not even Ghirardelli sells white chocolate chips; it sells a product now labeled "classic white chips," innocent of actual chocolate ingredients. If you know where I can find the genuine article, chip-wise, for heaven's sake say so.)

Thus it was that this evening as Miss B was asking her dad to pick up a couple of things at the grocery store, I said, "Tell him I'm out of something."
"Out of what?" she asked.
"He'll know," I said. Whether he'll do anything about it, I thought, is another question.


Some people think there's no point in being too predictable.