Bitter Sweet

This is my latest thing.
Smarties.

Candy-coated chocolate.

What am I? Twelve years old?

So, on Thurs May 5, when I had to skip supper in order to be at the question and answer session before the David Crowder concert in Bellingham, I picked up a bottle of water, a packet of cheezies and the smarties, as shown above.

I ate the cheezies before we even crossed the border. And then, because the container is mega-noisy when one shakes out the contents, I dumped hundreds of Smarties into the bottom of my purse.

While listening to David Crowder talk about his beard, I would grab handful of crunchy sweet deliciousness and chew as quietly at possible so as to not to disturb the folks sitting right beside me - the VP of the organization I am employed at. Because well. Smarties are so mature, right?

And then.
The question/answer period was over. And there was a break. I took advantage of the increased noise levels in the theatre to pop in an exceptionally large handful. I bit down and the most disgusting, the most bitter, the most vile, the most putrid taste burst in my mouth.

And the saliva? Oh. My. Goodness. My mouth had become a saliva producing machine. Buckets of it were forming. And The Bitter was spreading. It was numbing my tongue and my left inside cheek. And I didn't know what to do. Because, The Spit. There was gallons of it in my mouth. And it needed to leave.

Sandra was preparing to head to the bathroom, when I stopped her. She took a look at my face and said, "WHAT?"

"Something very unholy is happening in my mouth," I replied

"What do you have in there?"

"My supper. Smarties."

"Why does your face look like that?"

"It's. So. Bitter. And my tongue is numb. I need a kleenex."

She rummaged around in her bag and handed me the world's smallest square of tissue. "It's clean," she assured me.

In the classiest way possible, considering who was sitting right beside me (on my other side, not the Sandra side...) I brought that smidgeon of a tissue to my mouth and emptied the 20 gallons of melting chocolate drool onto it with the balance overflowing into the palm of my hand. SO. Much. Saliva. Have I mentioned The Spit? And the amount? Or The Bitter? And the paralysis?

"ARE YOU BEING POISONED?" Sandra wanted to know. "You should contact the Smartie people and let them know."

"My tunnng is nummm." I replied.

"Should I take your somewhere? Like a hospital? Or a poison place? Can it wait til after the concert though? I really don't want to miss this. I'm always out of town and have missed, like the last 5 that you've been to. And I love David Crowder. So. You're going to be OK for awhile, right? It's just your tongue?"

"And lippppssss."

"OK. Well, I'm going to the bathroom. Hopefully you're fine."

I guzzled the rest of my bottled water in an effort to wash The Bitter from my mouth. I knew exactly what would erase the lingering awfulness from my tastebuds. Another handful of Smarties. They are nothing but sweet. (Unless of course, you get a poison-filled one. Then, well, then, it's not as pleasant.) But I wasn't going to risk it. So I did what everyone does when unexpected bitterness takes over their lives. You wait it out. Time. The Healer of All Things.

And sure enough, by the time the concert was over, my mouth was back to it's usual happy self.

As the lights came back on, I looked into my purse.
And saw my small container of Advil and remembered that the lid had come off and all those shiny pain-fighting capsules of goodness had spilled to the bottom of my purse. (DO NOT START JUDGING ME REGARDING THE CONTENTS ON THE BOTTOM ON MY PURSE. JUST DON'T.)

I must've got a capsule mixed in with the Smarties.
(If anyone googles "Smarties" they are so going to find this post. I've said "Smarties" about twenty times in 5 paragraphs. The Smartie people are not going to like this story.)

The end.
Moral is? Go to McDonald's before you see a David Crowder concert.

(This by the way? Is David cleaning the ear wax out of his ear phones. There was so much build up he couldn't hear himself.)
(Ha. And you thought I was gross with all that spit going on. That was nothing compared to what the star of the show was doing. He beat me hands down.)


You so want to sit beside me at the next concert I go to, don't you?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~



Three things I'm thankful for:

1. It's that time again. Our Annual English Afternoon Tea at work. There were yummy treats.

And we were all supposed to wear hats. Just like them Brits do.

2. Non-rainy evenings perfect for long neighbourhood walks.

3. The Good Wife. (The TV show.) It's my Binge Watch of Choice this Spring. Just finishing up the 6th season this week.

Shalom,
xo