I tolerated it, I really did.
But it was just too much. Missing meetings for silly holidays. Couldn't touch candy because it would spoil his dinner. The whole thing was sickening, really.
I'd decided, one day in therapy, that I needed a partner. Not all the fuss that comes with them. Just the partner.
I'd started with the Grandmothers, so frail and delerious and unattached. Just a pop of ion laced gumdrops for each, and down they go, dropping like flys.
Oh, how upset they'd all been. Charlie couldn't work for days, hadn't a sweet tooth to spare. Sad, really.
He eventually got over it, stopped his moping and got busy with mixing and matching sugars and colors and flavors, and all was well. I'd just decided that maybe the rest could be left, when he told me it was his mother's birthday. He'd see me tomarrow.
Down with the mother. Down with the father, just for good balance.
I had the Oompa Loompa's give them nice little funerals with glistening chocolate caskets and buried underneath the finest honey apple tree beside the river, and I watched he and his grandfathers cry. Better to lose the strings, I'd said, better not to be held down. Charlie looked up at me, then, as his parents bodies were lowered into the eadible grass, and he gave me a look, as though he'd been slapped with a horrible secret he didn't know what to do with, and he didn't say much else.
He got back to work soon, though, and we'd sold sixty million sugar fireflies in three weeks.
Something came up, and he spent days in that little cottage by the choclate river, and I'd decided enough was enough.
The garbage for Grandpa Goerge, and Grandpa Joe...the Oompa Loompa's are quit creative, I do believe.
He looked at me, though, with these listless, heartbroken eyes, and for just a moment, I wondered it I did the right thing.
I shook that off, though. He'd get over it. He'd work harder then ever, without those pest holding him down.
Candy, after all, does take time.
A/N Don't know....been killing alot of people lately.