Chocolate Delegation

Delegate. Don’t you just love the sound of that word. To Delegate, to pass the buck, to give up and tell them to do it themselves. Delegation, a group of people sent by their people to talk to another group of people who are talking on behalf of their people. What a marvellous idea.

“There you go, toddle off. This is my proposal, don’t come home until they have agreed to it.”

No, I’m not getting political, I’ve already done that bit. I do want to know if we get a National Independence Day on 31st October though.

I’m talking about delegation at work and around the house. That fanciful idea that all the guru’s give us.

“Go hence and separate your chores and let others do their share.”

For a start I wouldn’t dare let anyone do my dirty knickers, and I don’t think Mark knows the first thing about the double oven. When I brought it, he got all confused when I told him you could use either one. There followed a “Why do you need two, you only cook one meal a day. I tried to explain that when I cook a fruit cake I wouldn’t dare use the fan oven. That a slow roast in better in an old-fashioned conventional oven, but he just didn’t get it. I finally ended up explaining that it was the difference between opening the computer, looking at one photo and closing it or running a film. You needed the fan to click in because the machine got too hot after running for a long time, whereas opening up for a minute or two the fan wasn’t essential. Only the oven is the other way around. By that time, I had confused myself, so I gave up.

“Top oven, Grill. Bottom oven Roasts and Cakes.”

“That’s simple,” he said, “why didn’t you say that.”

“When are you going to roast or bake a cake?” I asked.

“Never, but it’s good to know you’re not wasting money on an oven you’re not going to use.”

Delegation in this house doesn’t include shopping. Unless I am absolutely desperate. It just wouldn’t work.

“I need kaffir lime leaves.”

Mark goes shopping, comes home, places limes on table.

“What are they for?” I know what’s coming I can read it, I knew it would happen but I have to play the part of the understanding wife.

“I couldn’t find any with leaves on, so I just got the limes.”

Where do I begin? “Mark, Kaffir Lime leaves.”

“I don’t know where they come from, I asked the bloke in the veggie aisle, he said he didn’t know. One limes much the same as another, isn’t it?”

“No Mark, I didn’t want limes I wanted… maybe it’s my fault, I should have made myself clearer, but you did say, you weren’t stupid when I tried to explain and you did tell me you were capable of doing a few bits of shopping.”

Penny drop, not a happy Mark. We would end up with a very bitter curry. God knows what he would come back with if I sent him to get some Asafoetida!

The one thing I can rely on Mark to do exceptionally well, is buy Chocolate.

“I have a craving, I need Chocolate (capitalised for effect)”

The last time I rang him with that morsel of responsibility he came home with half the local corner shop. I was not displeased.

Christmas is creeping up, yep I said it. With Christmas comes more chores for every woman I know, Christian or otherwise. I have the added responsibility of the Birthday dinner. The Birthday dinner was put off last year and so this year it’s going to count. From 16 October to 13 November, my brother, my husband, myself and my daughter all have a birthday and this year it’s going to be special. Not because of age, just because I miss my family and this is the ideal time to have a tradition.

That tradition will include presents, cake and chocolate. Being the type of men that tell you not to bother with presents, neither my brother, nor my hubble will be relied upon to provide anything. They can pay for the meal. Do they not buy presents? Do they not know what to buy? Are they both unaware that it is traditional to buy presents? No, none of the above, it’s just that they can be a tad unpredictable and I am a total control freak. For instance, my brother likes to buy things like ‘cars’ for birthdays, my hubble buys thing for Mandy and doesn’t tell me, which could be embarrassing when we get to the restaurant. He bought her a smoking e-cig thing for Christmas. Tried to sneak it to her then decided to tell me that he had told me about it! So this year I’ve told them that we are doing the shopping. Mandy is buying the presents from herself to my brother, my hubble and me, and she is buying the presents from my brother, to me, my hubble and to herself. Which leaves me doing the same thing for myself and for Mark. It’s ok it will work I promise. I’m making the birthday cake and I’ve booked the hotel so that we can all have a drink or two.

It all looks well organised, however there is one slight problem. Chocolates. With everything running so smoothly I knew I wouldn’t have a chance to get to the market this month so I contacted the Guru of Chocolate and said I need two boxes of 12 Chocolates please.

The Guru is Chris, she who should be showered with delicate flowers and worshiped from… Ok I’ll stop there, don’t want to get her all excited, “Hi Chris.”

I remembered that Rivington Chocolates would be at the Tearoom on Friday, so I messaged them and asked if I could pick up two boxes of twelve. One box for me for next weekend, I’m going to be on my own, but that’s another story, and one box for the Birthday dinner.

It rained, a lot on Friday and I got wet. I dressed up for the weather in my purple welly boots, yellow rain coat, blue jeans, red scarf, green t-shirt and navy hat. So, I walked into the Tearoom looking like a very colourful drowned rat. The only consolation being I wasn’t the only one. Oh, I also had a green rucksack on my back. What can I say, I love being colourful.

Rivington Chocolates are rich and creamy and fresh. If you have never tried freshly made Chocolate then you have never tasted Chocolate in its truest form. These delicacies are lethal and the contents should come with a warning.

“Do not open unless you intend to finish the box”

I did and I didn’t but I did. What can I say, I had a good day Saturday. The Rugby was on, England played well. At 9am in the morning you have a choice, get the beer out when the game starts or find something else. The coffee was flowing, I’d had my breakfast, see I was a good girl, and then I just had to find that game wise snack. With two boxes of Rivington Chocolates in front of me, (defining in front of as, upstairs in the spare room in the cupboard where I keep all my Christmas gifts as I buy them) right in front of me, how could I not eat them. Only one at a time mind you.

As the first points go on the board and Argentina get there first penalty kick over the bar, I go for the dark square of gold edged Chocolate, as half time approached I look longingly at the second tray, determined to save myself from my own desires. By 4pm, two games, one snooze and a house wide hoover I’m deserving of just the one. As I finish my dinner and search my brain for something to go with my coffee I spy the last remaining Chocolate. Pink, shiny and perfectly round.

Box one demolished. I opened, I did what I had not intended and I was very pleased I had. I could justify my desire as a taste teasing for the Birthday dinner and I approved.

I won’t mention Sunday and the fact that I committed the ultimate crime of eating all 12 Chocolates in one sitting. I won’t mention that I felt like poo when I started and the endorphin inducing, orgasmic organic Chocolates lifted my mood without any guilt what so ever.

I’m very glad we have Rivington Chocolates on our doorstep, I’m glad that I can either pick them up, go to any number of the outlets locally that stock them, or even order on line and have them delivered, what I’m not happy about is that after my weekend of Chocciefest, Mark has suggested that he be delegated the job of Chocolate provider. He also wants to know if they have a Facebook page so that he can message them.

“What are you going to say to them.” I asked. I thought he was joking.

“I need to ask them to put a warning on the boxes and only sell them to responsible adults.”
I’m not shocked and they do have a FB page, but Mark is just a tad too late, I’ve already reordered my boxes.

I wonder if they do refills? Now there is an idea.

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