And The Bread Said

And the rye bread said, "Buy me," as I walked by it in a busy grocery store. I stopped my cart and stared at the bread.

"You can't be serious," I replied. "You contain too many calories." "I do," the bread answered, "But I taste delicious and I'm a good buy at this price."

At about this time, a stern middle aged woman with her hair wrapped tightly in a bun, shook her head and turned to another woman and remarked, "Can you believe this, he's talking to a bread."

But I wasn't concerned by her questioning my sanity, for there was a bigger issue to be resolved, "Should I buy this bread?"

At this point the bread made a different appeal.

"Please help me fulfill my destiny," it said. "My destiny is to be eaten and enjoyed. But in another day the store will discard me claiming I'm stale.

"If you don't buy me, probably no one will."

"Alright," I answered. "Get in my cart." Instantly, the bread dropped from the shelf and settled on top of my apples.

The next morning, I set that bread in front of my toaster and said, "I'm going to toast and enjoy this bread, for it told me it is delicious."

But the toaster looked at me and replied, "What! Are you crazy? Who ever heard of a talking bread?"

"Say something," I said to the bread.

And as the bread didn't utter a word, I knew my toaster would never believe this bread could speak.

"Next time buy a wheat bread," my lamp called out, "They have more personality."

Dick