If You Can’t Beat ‘Em


My two-and-a-half-year-old found my stash.

She was halfway through a two-inch-by-two-inch square of Valrhona when I discovered it. Since it was already covered with slobber, we sat together on the stairs and put it away. Might as well join ’em. The picture—derivative of Bear’s, I know—and the smears around her mouth show her triumph.

And I thought I had expensive tastes.

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