“Are You Going To Eat That?”

It just sat there on the tabletop, nestled comfortably on the lace doily.

It was calling to me, 

                                     “Tooooommmmm! Tooooooooooommmm!”

I shot a quick glance in its direction.  Oh, chocolatey, gooey, fudgy decadence.

I could feel the pounds being added on, one by one.

The cat, too, had seen it, for he leapt up onto the table in a single bound.  His landing, however, let a lot to be desired.

The plate holding this scrumptious delight slowly, ever so slowly, slid and crashed onto the floor.

The cat and I looked at each other.

 “Are you going to eat that?,” he said.

“Probably. You wanna help?”