Guilty pleasures for most involve such things as eating sweet foods, or watching romantic movies, or singing songs that most others don't appreciate. Mine isn't just one of these things. Mine is all of these things – together; at the same time.
In the late spring, early summer, I join Broghan, my dear friend, at her house, and we begin our enthralling day of indulging ourselves.
It starts with turning on the music; the same songs every year: a compilation of Mika's works that we know by heart. Then we break out in dancing, even if we are injured or sick, we cannot help ourselves; the singing and dancing just has to be done.
Once Broghan brings out the recipe book, I know she means business. We get down to work, and soon are testing our rich, dark fudge, ensuring it will turn out okay – usually it tastes fabulous but doesn't look quite so appetizing as some would like. As we let it cool and set, we mix up the icing – one year green, one pink, then the last it was purple – and eventually are able to spread it on our fudge-concoction.
We turn on Ever After, our favorite romantic, Cinderella-type movie, and curl up on the couch with blankets and our pan of fudge and spoons. We devour the sweets right down to the very last spoonful, while Danielle De Barbarac and Prince Henry fall in love.
As the movie finishes we sing Toby Keith – very loudly and very badly – but we don't care how we sound; it's our sheepish delight.
And so, my guilty pleasure is a combination of many things: gorging myself on sweet foods, in this case, fudge, while singing music that many others do not like, such as country, and then watching romantic movies – Ever After being a favorite pick.
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