First memory of waffle

My mom and dad bought a waffle iron and it was a big deal.
I was in pre-school. I tasted my first waffle and it was the most amazing thing I had ever tasted. I knew no one would ever believe me or even be able to comprehend such deliciousness. I asked my mom if I could bring some to school. I had a special friend that I wanted to share this experience with.
“No” was her answer
I have never been one to understand the word “No”,
or perhaps I really did understand “NO” in a more profound way then most,
in a spiritual way
in pre-school I began to know “NO” in the Zen sense of “hidden way”.

I undertook my spiritual task with a plastic baggie, concealing the waffle in my lamb's wool lined boots. At recess I took my little comrade down to the trees, I was so excited for her to see what I had, to take her to that extreme in sensory pleasure. What I pulled out in no way resembled the waffle that I had put in.
We were both surprised, but it made sense to me when I thought about it.
It was my first realization that something so awesome could be turned into a bag of mush.

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