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Whipped cream coffee & sandwich

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Approximately six years ago, my wife’s son got
her hooked on the Vinte’ Starbucks Mocha
Frappacino with two shots of espresso, and of
coarse, tons of whipped cream.  He should have
been ashamed of himself, knowing how
susceptible his mother is, to such fantastic
delights.  She is the carbohydrate, raw sugar and
espresso queen.  However, she does not have the tiaras to
prove her royalty, but it is true.

Three years back she proceeded to get me
hooked on the same Starbucks drink with, yes
(my head is hanging low in shame and severe
self loathing) the additional espresso and a
whole lot of whipped cream.  Who would have
ever thought that being a sweet mocha caf-fiend
whipped cream junkie could be so blessed
heavenly.  I am a true sap.  I know she led me by
the string around her cute little pinky into my
tragic addiction just so Iwould be her Starbucks
supplier.

Happily, I can say I did get even a few months
ago.  In my abnormal desire for anything sweet
and satisfying, I stumbled with beady bloodshot
eyes down the ice cream isle at the grocery store
frantically searching for the magic container at
the end of an hallucinated rainbow.  Sweating
profusely, I was literally frothing at the mouth.
Suddenly, there between two other brands sat
the crown jewel of cold creamy gems and I knew
at once I was saved.  My guardian angel was with
me.  Trembling, I hastily grabbed up two pints
of Starbucks Mocha Frappacino Ice Cream, even
though it does not come with added espresso.  I
raced home hoping not to get a ticket for licking
from an open container.  Vengeance is a tasty
delight, because now she buys my ice cream.

Wait a minute, me thinks I have been duped yet
again.  My lady uses my coinage.   

Copyright 2011, by Glenn Raymond.

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