Gummy Bears

Earlier this week I woke up at about 2 in the morning with this giant craving for gummy bears. Not just any gummy bears or even gummy worms or gummy butterflies (which are creepy, by the way). I needed to have a certain brand of bears that is carried in stores that are not open in the middle of the night. They're also 45 minutes away. 

What's an independent girl to do when she's craving something she can't wake her hubby up to go get? Hop onto her trusty little Amazon.com app and order herself some gummy bears, of course. I could have just waited until morning and driven to the store to get the gummy bears but my brain didn't think of that then. 

I'm glad my brain didn't tell me to go back to sleep and just buy them in the morning, because I saw that I could order gummies in sizes that I'd only ever dreamt of. Screw this 16 oz bag of candy nonsense. I could order bags bigger than my head! 

Thanks to handy dandy Amazon Prime, I only had to wait 2 days for my squishy yumminess to arrive. I won't lie, it was a long 2 days. Hubby would come home from work, sniffing around like a bloodhound, and I'd have to tell him the gummies weren't here yet. The sad, disappointed look as he walked away with his head down was heart breaking. 

Then, on a cold, windy day, I saw the glorious brown truck in my driveway. The UPS man was carrying a big box and I ran to open the door. I squealed in delight and tried so hard not to lunge at him, wanting that box in my arms immediately. He slowly backed away from the door, not taking his eyes off of me and I turned around to see Ginger Girl with a wicked grin on her face. 

That particular grin is not so unusual for her so I ignored it as I danced around, hugging my box to my chest. Then I saw it...the reason for her devious little smirk. She was holding my scissors. 

I tried to get them from her, but she pranced away, holding them just out of my reach. I couldn't open the box. She was tormenting me and I became a lion. I was growling and pawing at that box while she stood there laughing and taunting me with the tool needed to open the box. When I resorted to opening it with my teeth, Ginger Girl finally handed me the scissors. 

To show just how large a 5 lb bag
is, my not-so-little hand for comparison.

My craving was giant so I had to get a giant bag.  

Oddly enough, 5 pounds is cheaper than 3 pounds. Blondie's take on that: "This is America, where we encourage obesity with large portions." Way to burst my bubble, child.