Soap in Your Mouth Nostalgia...on purpose

I wrote this story for the 2nd graders (well, not FOR the 2nd graders, but to illustrate that I, too, write about my life)...

At the market, we have been selling chunks of soap cut from a GIGANTIC wheel of soap. They are lovely and they smell (ferociously) like rose, cucumber, lavender and other obvious natural odors. The pieces cut are about 1-2 ounces in weight and have squiggly edges from the cutter…and we have been waiting for the day when someone eats a chunk because they are consistently asking what it is.
AND TODAY WAS THE DAY! The meat man brought me the remains of a chunk he found in THE BACON cooler. Funny. So funny that I carried it around…tiny, chewed bits of it and a bigger chunk they took the original nibble from …in my hands. A stranger’s spit, but SO worth the sacrifice.
The thought process of the unintelligent patron is what really makes me giggle.
You would be FORCED to smell it and think, “This doesn’t smell like a cheese I want to eat.” But, no, if we put a sample out, despite distaste or allergies or a razor blade protruding from it…THEY MUST EAT IT. So they do. Even soap. In your mouth. I'm putting toothpicks out tomorrow.