Wednesday, August 29, 2012

Buttered Popcorn and John Cusack

This week we are in the Berkshires, sort of. We're on the New York side of the border, so we're technically not officially in the Berkshires. So we've been told.

Anyhow, the other day we slipped across the border to Great Barrington. We happened upon an amazing candy shop called Robin's. Candy everywhere. My eyes were bugging out of my head. I walked around dazed, like a kid in a candy shop, if you will.

I put myself on an important mission to round up the best assortment of chocolate-covered things. Focus, Deb. FOCUS.

I then made a horrifying discovery.

Remember as a kid, you picked out the black jellybeans? Because licorice is revolting to most children, and I do not for the life of me understand why they get included in the mix. And then, when you discovered Jelly Belly jellybeans, you picked out the buttered-popcorn flavored jellybeans? Because seriously, who wants to contaminate a mouthful of sweet jellybean goodness with the taste of fake butter?

I demand to know: Who is buying this flavor?

I turned from my chocolate counter mission -- if my life were a movie, it would have been in slow motion -- to find my dear husband filling a bag with buttered-popcorn flavored Jelly Belly jellybeans.

I was speechless.

"So, it's you," I stammered.

It was like when we were first dating and he almost broke up with me upon discovering I found John Cusack annoying. And thought Grosse Point Blank was a stupid movie. And had never seen Say Anything. (I know, I know.)

For me, the popcorn jelly bean discovery was that egregious. Buttered-popcorn Jelly Belly jellybeans are my John Cusack.

"I like these," he responded, confused at my intense reaction to his candy-gathering.

I sighed. He hadn't actually broken up with me; he had just thought about it. I shrugged and filled up my own bag.


In other news, for a child who puts everything in his mouth, including but certainly not limited to paper of any sort, diaper bag straps, buckles of all stripes, Hudson's rubber ball, dirt and grass from the park, my hair, my face, zippers, necklaces and the fringe on our area rug, I cannot get Henry to eat "finger food." I've tried everything: banana, avocado, carrot, zucchini. All he does is smush it around the table or dump the food out and attempt to eat the bowl.

I welcome any and all advice on this one.