I was down the local pub last night. While enjoying a pint with Simon, our conversation was interrupted by a small child. The kid had wandered off from its mother and was trying to make friends. Bless. The child’s idea of starting a friendship was by offering me chocolate. Now this is always a good thing, but not in this case.
I wasn’t able to accept the gift. Not because I felt bad about taking a young boy’s sweets, but because the chocolate had been half chewed and covered was in spit. It was extremely awkward when he left the soggy KitKat on the pub table and stood around watching, expecting me to tuck in.
Luckily he was distracted by something shiny at the other side of the room and he ran away; but I was left feeling bad and guilty for not eating his gift of chewed up biscuit. Am I going to Hell now?
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