On a quest for Branston Pickle (been craving it) I went grocery shopping in Tualatin Fred Meyers. Praise the Pickle Gods that be! Not only did they have Branston Pickle in their 'ethnic aisle' but they had cans of custard and Spotted Dick and Treacle Pudding and Ambrosia Rice and Heinz Baked Beans and all the comfort foods that remind yours truly of home. I bought one of everything.
Then a sweet scent wafted across the store and stopped me in my tracks. What was it that drew me, nostrils first... something in the bakery. Sniffing like a bloodhound I bee-lined it to the doughnut case. Fresh cinnamon rolls with maple frosting. Dripping with gluten and wheat and potential poison for me.
"I have to have it!" said tempted me.
"You'll be sick," admonished sensible me.
"I don't care. I'll only sniff it. Maybe lick the frosting off. That doesn't have gluten," tempted me protested.
"Don't do it. You'll be sorry."
"Oh, shut up!"
I lifted a piece of paper, opened the case and carefully selected a glutinous, sticky, irrestistable mass of temptation and reverently slid it into one of the bakery bags. I don't know what had come over me.
It was a short ride from the grocery store to my house, and I could barely concentrate due to the cinnamon and maple aroma that filled the car. Maybe I should have a quick bite, then throw the rest away. One bite won't poison me, right? (Didn't Eve say something like that to Adam?) While keeping an eye on the road ahead I stretched to the passenger seat on which sat my grocery bags. Fumbling for a few moments I located the bakery bag, getting maple frosting all over my fingers.
The bag wouldn't come free so I looked away from the road for a moment and yanked out the doughnut from the bag. I almost missed my turn off, so quickly veered into the left lane and accelerated through the amber light.
Immediately red and blue lights flashed and a police cruiser zoomed up behind me.
"Shit!" I obediently pulled over.
I wound down my window as the officer approached. He was someone I knew from when I volunteered at the Washington County Sheriff's Office. I realized I still had the maple frosted cinnamon roll in my hand.
"Doughnut?" I inquired with a grin and held it up to him.
I watched his mouth twitch as he tried not to laugh. He lost the battle and guffawed, taking it from me.
"Got a napkin?" he demanded.
I grabbed the bakery bag and a couple of tissues and handed them to him.
"Thanks," he mumbled through a mouthful of sticky doughnut. "Don't do that again." He waved the doughnut in emphasis at the traffic lights and started walking back to his cruiser.
"I won't," I promised. "Thanks!"
I guess giving in to temptation from time to time turns out to be the right thing to do.