Sugar Addict
Eh, I hate short stories. I don’t want to write one.
Instead, I’ll talk about my breakfast. Because there’s no time in the morning, I eat this weird concoction of sliced apples, cheese, and honey. It sounds really weird, but my dad said that he used to bring it as a snack on camping trips. That fact might not make it less weird.
Someone put the honey jar in the fridge today, so it felt like I was trying to spread corn syrup. I’ve eaten corn syrup before. We had this ancient bottle of it when I was like, 8, and it was stored in a cupboard that it really shouldn’t have fit inside if the laws of science were true. I went to great lengths to steal a spoonful of it, because my mom insisted that it wasn’t good for you and you shouldn’t eat it by itself. There was sticky stuff on the side, but I managed to get a spoon in the same way I used to steal Nutella, stealthily and evilly. The only difference between the corn syrup and the Nutella was the amount I took. I ate way too much Nutella as a small child. I heard there’s like, 100 calories and 20g of sugar per tablespoon, and I used to eat about four heaping tablespoons in one sitting.
I was a pretty ravenous sugar addict. When my parents used to have a garden, they would go out in the mornings and nurture their nice, healthy cucumbers and peas. While this happened, I would grab a piece of bread and slather every sugary substance in the house on top of the bread, including chocolate sauce, brown sugar, honey, and Nutella, if we had it. That’s gross. I was a weird kid.
It’s my birthday on Sunday. I’m turning 17, but I feel legit 7.