You know when you do something even though you know it’s a bad idea? A terrible, brilliant idea? I did that when I bought biscuit spread/Speculoos, knowing full well that it’s 65% biscuit and I have a weakness for biscuits like some women have a weakness for men with big arms.
On the top of the jar there’s a little “TRY ME” sticker, on which you’re invited to write at least 15 words about the spread and send them to the company and get a nice little cheque for the price of the spread. “Ahha!” I thought. “I can do better than a mere 15 words! I’m a writer at heart after all!” Despite the fact that I’ve not written any poems since I was forced to at school about seven years ago, I started to think of fun things while I stirred my porridge and by the time I got on the tube to go to work, I had a seven-verse poem, with rhymes and everything.
I bought this spread for baking
But never got that far –
I accidentally ate it all
Straight out of the jar.
From the first wee nervous nibble
It made me gasp and wonder,
But I was on a diet then
And cursed it as a blunder.
But not a full week later
I put some in my shopping
And knew right then that come new year
My buttons would be popping.
I had such good intentions
To make some wholesome bakes
But now it’s in my tummy
Instead of in a cake.
I wrote this to say thank you
For this lovely biscuit dream,
But now that I have eaten it
I can’t fit in my jeans.
But please send me a little cheque
So I can buy some more,
And munch it using just a spoon
Upon my kitchen floor.
For you lot have created what
My waistline’s come to dread.
Despite it all, I’ve no regrets:
I love you, Lotus spread.
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