This is not a metaphor for sex.

(It actually, legitimately wasn’t. But I had that thought while brushing my teeth after writing this, and I laughed so hard that toothpaste got all over the mirror. And then I read it again. I … could see myself writing this in the future as a metaphor for sex (with, y’know, jelly kink). It’s possible. I even somewhat expect it. So now it sort of is a metaphor for sex. Just not … a real one? A current-events one?)

I like toast again! I thought as a kid that I liked toast. Or rather, that toast was a thing that grown-ups liked, and that I would develop a taste for it as I matured. Meanwhile, I was sort of indifferent to toast. The various jellies one can put on toast are pretty great sometimes! My favorite is mint apple, which most people look at askance and dismiss as “weird” or “unnatural” without trying it for themselves. But I always just wanted a spoon full of jelly, with no toast underneath.

However, I got bored one day last month and put a slice of bread in the toaster. It felt a little awkward – the toaster is huge, and there was just this one tiny slice of bread in it, and I wasn’t even sure I’d eat the bread that came out; it might have ended up in the woods for the birds, for all I knew when I plugged that toaster in. But I put the toast on a plate, and I covered it in so much jelly I couldn’t see bread anymore, and I ate it.

And I liked it okay.

And I kept on liking it, with less and less jelly, until now my toast looks the way I always imagined grown-up toast to be. A nice, big slice of bread with enough jelly to glaze the top, but not enough to drown out the fact that there’s toast underneath. I still think the jelly is the best part, but I’ve come to accept toast as a relatively positive vehicle for that jelly. Less dishes to wash afterwards than the spoon, at least. Fewer questions about a spoon with small chunks of green on it, to be sure.

But the thing is? I still like the jelly best. (I’m only pretending to be a grownup.)


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