This was a Cheesecake Factory Double Chocolate Fudge cupcake, so it was really The Good Chocolate.
My friend Michelle and I were at Starbuck's with her little boy, Ben, who is about three and a half. Ben was eating his chocolate cupcake in that deliberate way that little boys do. First, he licked off all the frosting. Then, he ate the rounded top.
He had Michelle remove the paper, then began waving the cupcake away from the table and over the floor, which prompted Michelle to hand him the plastic box that had held the cupcake and suggest that he use that as a plate. No, he didn't want to do that.
"Don't drop it," she warned. "Keep it over the table."
He smiled and waved the cupcake over the floor.
"If you drop it on the floor," she said, "I'm not getting you another one."
He smiled, then used a plastic fork to mash the top of the cupcake down. Boy stuff.
He started eating the cupcake again. Not using the fork. Forks are for mashing, not for conveying small bites of food to one's mouth.
He began to bang on the plastic box.
"Stop making noise," Michelle warned.
He didn't stop.
"If you do that again, I'm throwing the box into the trash. You're making noise and that's annoying to the other people here. Class Factotum and I are having a conversation and you're making noise. We're going to the trains in five minutes and you need to be quiet for five minutes."
He whirled the box on the table.
Michelle threw the box into the trash.
Ben looked puzzled.
"I told you not to make noise. That made noise."
He smiled. "I'm done," he said, and put his the remains of his cupcake -- about half -- on a napkin.
"OK," Michelle said. "We'll go to the trains in a minute."
Ben got off his chair, reached across the table, grabbed the cupcake, turned, opened the trash can, and tossed it in.
Michelle and I turned, stunned. Our jaws dropped.
"Ben!" we said. "What? Why? THAT WAS GOOD CHOCOLATE!"
I said, "If we weren't in a public place, I would dig that out of the trash."
"Oh, so would I," answered Michelle.
We both turned to Ben and glared.
"You're a Good Chocolate Thrower Outer," I scolded. "Don't EVER do that on a date."