Had she known the bag of chocolates would explode into every nook and cranny of her kitchen, she never would’ve opened it. In an instant, brightly colored, candy-coated confetti shot behind her blender, beneath her dishwasher and under her fridge. All she wanted was a tiny indulgence at the end of a rough day. And all she got was really, really pissed off.
“It shouldn’t be so hard to be happy,” she said, spinning around toward the trash can with such force that she lost her balance and jammed her toe into the barstool. “FFFFFFUUUUU–”
When her four-legged little munchkin came bounding into the kitchen and assumed his crooked headed/innocent eyes pose, she couldn’t help but laugh. “Hi, precious,” she said, reaching down to rub his ears. “Who’s a good baby?” She put both hands under his chin and scratched.
And that’s when she noticed the blood.
“PUFFY! Did you get into mama’s stash AGAIN?!” he held his head in shame and looked up from beneath guilty brows. “You have no idea how far that cute little face gets you, little man.”
She reached under the kitchen counter and grabbed a clean pair of latex gloves and a face mask, cranked up the stereo and headed to the back room. Operation Candy Cleanup had just been redefined.