This actually happened.
I went into the kitchen this morning at the office to make a bowl of oatmeal. There was no oatmeal but I'll tell you what there was: Chocolate croissants.
hot.
flaky.
chocolate croissants.
I snatched one, cradled it tenderly--channeled the R & B station that sometimes plays in my brain, closed my eyes and took a deep breath in. A confectionary delight.
reality: Did I just smell my breakfast and begin singing, Let's Get it On?
My eyes popped open. I threw it on the counter, grabbed a yogurt parfait and got the hell outta there.
Reporter:1; Croissant: 0.
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