After seeing Emily’s fridge, I’m a little embarrassed to put my pantry on display. I know, pinto beans on top of marmalade? Please. I need to get my act together.

But how can I, when I’m being assaulted by confections-waiting-to-happen?

I was innocently putting away the groceries. I reached for the top shelf, the bag of chocolate chips tipped, and then?

Chocolate chips. Pelting me. And the beans. And the floor. Fortunately, the marmalade was unharmed.