Chocolate Covered Letters in Square Shapes

You'll have to excuse my recent absence. Blame it on the holiday season. Blame it on my health. Blame it on my boss actually giving me real work to do. Believe me, I was just as shocked as you must be. Blame it on writer's block.

Ok, fine. Just blame me if it makes you happy.

I have to admit I've been very naughty lately. I confess to eating LOTS and LOTS and LOTS of chocolate. In all forms. One must take advantage of a calm tummy spell. You'd think I'd eat lots of vitamin-enriched meals, like vegetables and fruit and dairy and whatever else my mother tries to stuff me with. But no, I've been rushing home every evening dreaming of the lovely piles of chocolate chip cookies, large slabs of dark and milk Swiss chocolate, and velvety hot chocolate waiting for me in hidden stashes in my room. Between Christmas, my grandfather's compulsive buying, and friends home for the holidays, I've been buried with chocolate. No wonder my stomach started protesting yesterday. But I don't care. It's worth the lecture my scales will give me. It's worth the inevitable inflation my kirsh (potbelly) will display. It is so worth it.

The other night I suddenly had the strong urge to play Scrabble. So I had Bloft and Space Cadet search high and low, until they find both the Scrabble and the Boggle sets hidden in storage in places I am too short to reach as I have been blessed with the worst set of genes from both parents, while the other two managed to snag all the good stuff. Like height. Scolding a fourteen-year-old boy who is taller sitting down than you are standing up is not effective in the slightest. And I'm not even unnaturally short. I'm about 5'6. I'm alright. They're the not-so-gentle giants. Damn their gene pool luck.

But I'm not bitter. Or jealous. I don't secretly curse their noimmunesystemshortwaistlesshairthinningjewishnose escape. My brother has a beautiful nose. Both are great athletes. However, neither holds the world record in number of days being a couch potato. Their only achievements have been in stupid conventional sports like being star football (soccer, whatever) players (Bloft), or champion golfers (Space Cadet). I'm the cool one.

But that's beside the point. Where was I? Scrabble. After whooping their asses even though they are very talented cheaters, we moved on to Boggle. Boggle made me realize two things.

1) Bloft is pretty damn observant.
2) I am not in the slightest.
3) Bloft has special magical powers. She can make up words and with a small flick of the wrist make them appear in the dictionary.

Ok, that's three things. I told you I'm not observant.

So Bloft has been very happily winning at Boggle. She's also very adept at finding naughty words like 'tit' and 'shit' and 'bedan' and 'beid' (variations of balls) and 'dick' and 'fuck' etc... in a perfectly harmless Boggle board. Such a dirty little mind for a sixteen-year-old. She needs a good spanking. Any takers?