The 4th of Christmas-ween - I Almost Tossed it Out

Here's a cautionary tale that must be told. Listen to me, be you young or old: after something has long been growing mold, don't ever say (this wisdom, I strongly tout), "I almost tossed it out".  Maybe, I should have tossed it from the fridge, but I only nudged it a little smidge (behind the eggs), and never crossed that bridge. I should have taken a different route, I only almost tossed it out. It was delivered by mail from far away, well in advance of Christmas day, sent by my great-aunt, sweet and grey. I'm not sure what I was thinking about. I almost tossed it out. Days turned to weeks, and as the seasons passed, I was not taking action very fast, thinking I might eat Auntie's gift at last - her generosity, I could not flout, yet, I almost tossed it out. That fruitcake lived inside a cheery can, inside of which something strange began. That chunky treat hatched a hideous plan as it sat next to the sauerkraut. I had almost tossed it out, and then one day on the fourth of July, I thought I'd open it and give it a try. It lept out, strangled me, screaming, "time to die!", with no one to hear my regretful shout, "I almost tossed it out".