Murphy’s View: How Chocolate Can Help You Overcome Your Fears

 

The best thing about hanging on the trawler is all the yummy food Mom and Dad, or their friends, bring back from the different ports. Like today, friend Roger brought over some baked delicacies. With my olfactory senses in overdrive… I sensed decadent chocolate laced through a delicate croissant. YUMMY treat!

 

First Dad ate his after Mom warmed it up for him and brought it up to the flybridge where he was piloting the boat (he can drive the boat from downstairs or upstairs).  So Dad could thoroughly enjoy his tasty treat, he asked Mom to take over the helm (drive the boat).   Dad knew I was downstairs watching Mom warm up his croissant, so he helped me up the stairs to the flybridge because I’m not great at climbing up those steep, scary steps.  Once we navigated up the steps, Dad chomped his treat, right in front of me! After he ate all his treat all by himself, Dad took back the helm. Mom began moving to go downstairs again, but she and Dad told me to stay. They even moved a chair in front of the stairs to “deter” me. As if.  And then Mom went downstairs by herself. But I knew where she was going… to get her own yummy treat. I could listen to Mom and Dad, I should listen to Mom and Dad, I wanted to listen to Mom and Dad, but TREAT! Yummy gooey chocolate treat was happening downstairs and calling my belly. I nudged the chair with my nose and moved it just enough to slip past it to the stairs. The steep, scary steps separated me from Mom and some chocolatey treat. Traversing down those frightening steps is easier, because, well gravity, duh, so I just rambled on down those steps to Mom and probable food. She was not pleased to see me. But, c’mon, I’m so adorable, how could she refuse this face?

 

 

Murphy Pouting for Help

But, wait, oh, no… she was leaving me… taking her chai tea and warmed chocolate croissant back up those darn stairs. I just should’ve stayed put, upstairs. Dang it all. I just sat there, downstairs, with my head on the second step, looking up at them with my oh, woe is me face, towards Mom. I wanted Dad to come back down to help me up the steps again. But no. Mischievous Murphy, they called me. I tried to look remorseful. Said I should’ve obeyed them. “Woof, woof,” I called out. Nah, they weren’t buying it. “Woof, woof,” I tried again, but they just kept ignoring me. Well, if I wanted to get back up there to that chocolate croissant, I had to take matters into my own hands, or paws as it were. And so, that is how I managed to navigate up the steep, scary steps all by myself. Oh, yes, Majestic Murphy is back! And the chocolate croissant was so worth it! YUM!

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