The Reese's defense
A co-worker just emailed me and asked if I had any Reese’s peanut butter eggs stashed at my desk. At first I had to wonder if she sent me the email by mistake because, folks, I do not stash Reese’s. If a peanut butter egg is hanging around my desk it’s because I haven’t found it yet. I’m not one of those freaks who can take three eggs, eat one and let the other two hang out at my desk to become friends for the rest of the day. They disappear before they can tell the other eggs what really happens when you leave the bag.
Did I happen to mention I absolutely love Reese’s?
I was really excited when they started coming out with all these new flavors. White chocolate, inside out, caramel, chocolate lovers, peanut butter lovers. And the big cup. I thought the big cup was the next thing to heaven until I found out they only come one to a package. There's nothing like the classic cup, though.
I remember one year for Christmas I bought both of my uncles tree-shaped candy containers and bags of mini Reese’s to fill them. I made the mistake of filling the containers a couple of weeks before Christmas. I should have just kept the bags sealed, shoved them under my bed and tried to forget about them. First I took a Reese’s out of one container and then the other (to even things out) until I was back at the store buying two more bags of candy. I think my uncles eventually received tree-shaped containers filled with pretzels or nuts that year.
When I hear someone say, “I’d kill for a drink right now,” I think, “I’d kill for a peanut butter cup.” If I thought I could successfully be acquitted of the crime, I’d probably kill. Okay maybe not kill, but maim. All I’d need is some hotshot lawyer willing to take a risk and declare Reese’s addiction a mental deficit. Maybe I could pay the retainer in chocolate.
Did I happen to mention I absolutely love Reese’s?
I was really excited when they started coming out with all these new flavors. White chocolate, inside out, caramel, chocolate lovers, peanut butter lovers. And the big cup. I thought the big cup was the next thing to heaven until I found out they only come one to a package. There's nothing like the classic cup, though.
I remember one year for Christmas I bought both of my uncles tree-shaped candy containers and bags of mini Reese’s to fill them. I made the mistake of filling the containers a couple of weeks before Christmas. I should have just kept the bags sealed, shoved them under my bed and tried to forget about them. First I took a Reese’s out of one container and then the other (to even things out) until I was back at the store buying two more bags of candy. I think my uncles eventually received tree-shaped containers filled with pretzels or nuts that year.
When I hear someone say, “I’d kill for a drink right now,” I think, “I’d kill for a peanut butter cup.” If I thought I could successfully be acquitted of the crime, I’d probably kill. Okay maybe not kill, but maim. All I’d need is some hotshot lawyer willing to take a risk and declare Reese’s addiction a mental deficit. Maybe I could pay the retainer in chocolate.
