Stalked. With chocolate.

I appreciate the chocolate, but it's not from Aimee, and so while I have gratitude (thanks for the thought - and it's very true. More true than you could ever know), it comes with a side of I'm-a-little-creeped-out.

So I have a stalker. Who has pretty good taste in chocolate.

One person I thought of doesn't, to my knowledge, know about this blog.

Another doesn't know, I don't think, how much I truly, madly, deeply heart chocolate.

Another, I don't think, would do this, but you never know, you know? Maybe they would.

The rest of my options are hundreds of miles away. Across icy, driften roads. So I'm going with "no" on them. Whatever my brother may postulate.