I finished the bowl of alphabet soup and set the empty dish on the coffee table. But as I watched the rest of my television show, I realized that I hadn’t quite reached the point where I was painfully stuffed. My stomach wasn’t packed full enough to be creaking under the strain of its contents like the hold of a wooden ship in rough seas.
In my world, this meant that I was still hungry.
I reached over and took one of the saltine crackers from the package sitting next to my empty soup bowl and ate it. It was good. Not great, but good.
A minute later, I reached over and took another cracker. This one tasted slightly better than the first.
When I finished the second cracker, I reached for another, only this time I took two crackers instead of one . . . . Just to save on having to lean forward to get a cracker again so soon.
By the time the show I was watching had ended, I was grabbing five, six, even seven crackers at a time. I had finished the package that had originally accompanied my bowl of alphabet soup, and was more than half way through a second package. I couldn’t stop eating crackers.
When I had finished the entire box of saltine crackers, I thought it was finally over. I couldn’t eat any more crackers if there were no more crackers left. . . . .
Fifteen minutes later, I was licking my lips, which were burning from the salt on the saltines I had eaten, and pulling into the parking lot of the store where I planned on buying more crackers. My cracker compulsion was out of control.
Was this how it would end? Death by crackers? I remembered hearing about a guy who died from drinking too much water too fast. If too much water could kill you, I was surely doomed. Water was most certainly more benign than saltine crackers, yet it had the power to kill. By the time I returned home from the store, I was halfway through one of the boxes of crackers I had purchased.
I was fairly certain now that I was going to die from my cracker eating. Would a cracker death be painful? I sat on the couch stuffing cracker after cracker into my mouth and tearfully writing a final goodbye letter to my wife and daughters . . . . . with cracker crumbs cascading onto the stationary causing the pen to work sporadically. How would my family get along without me? Would the blogosphere feel a void in my passing?
“He was such a promising blogger, a star that burned too brightly to last”, I imagined my own epitaph.
So I sit and write this, possibly my final post. I will miss you all if it indeed is the end. I leave you with this final word of advice . . . . If you suspect that you or a loved one is capable of a cracker binge, don’t wait until it’s too late to act. Crackers kill.