A story, a cat, a bento and mini Odwalla bars

There’s a huge bowl of candy in the reception area of the office where I work.  Unfortunately for me, I’m the receptionist so the candy is a constant temptation.  It hasn’t been too hard to resist until today, when the boring mini Hersheys were replaced with Almond Joys, peanut m&ms, Twix, Dove chocolates, peppermint patties and mini Snickers.  EVERY TIME someone walks by the bowl, they take a candy.  Since most of the employees walk by a million times a day, that equals a crap ton of candy.  It’s almost as bad as watching all the women walk past my desk to get to the bathroom.  Hmmm, I think to myself, EVERY TIME.  Maybe I have to pee too!  No, I can’t possibly have to go again.  It’s all in my mind.  Better just go so I can stop thinking about it.  ETC.

The candy bowl makes for some funny conversations though.  Today I handed a man his tax return and, as he went to leave, he stopped by the candy bowl like everyone does.  He stood there for a moment gazing into its depths.  He seemed… peeved.

“Hmm,” he said.  “You don’t have any Mr. Goodbars?”

My mind flashed back to a few days ago, and I suddenly remembered that he had been in a few days ago and asked about Mr. Goodbars then, too!  I remembered it specifically because I thought Mr. Goodbar was an unusual thing to identify as missing from a bowl of candy.  I mean, I like Mr. Goodbar and all but I don’t think I would notice if there weren’t Mr. Goodbars in the mix, you know?  I decided to get to the bottom of it.

“Are Mr. Goodbars your favorite candy?” I asked.

“No,” he replied. “I just like them.”

“Well, how about a Twix?” I suggested.

“Nah, I don’t like Twix,” he said.  (Who doesn’t like Twix?  I became suspicious.)

“Have you ever had a Twix?” I asked.

“No,” he said. (AHA!) “But I don’t think I’d like them.”

“Maybe you’d like them if you tried them!” I replied obnoxiously.

“Maybe… but I’m 59 years old and I’m not about to go trying Twix now!” he said, turned away, and left.

How is Maggie these days?  She’s lost a little weight and is bursting with cattitude.

It’s so budgety around here these days.  I finally took a picture of Justin’s bento and lo, it’s exactly the same as EVERY SINGLE OTHER ONE I’VE EVER MADE.  That weird thing is a rolled-up taco left over from last night, and that other thing is a cherry pie Larabar!  I persist in buying them “for the fiber” and trying to get Justin to like them, when secretly I’m the only one around here who likes them and I know that I only want Justin to eat them because they fit so perfectly into the box.

I made up a batch of cookie-like things the other night, loosely based on this recipe.  I basically threw in everything I could think of that might taste good in a cookie.  “Are these healthy, or are they cookies?” asked Justin.  “Well, they’re both,” I replied.  “That means they’re NOT cookies,” he said.  Well, he wasn’t wrong, that’s for sure.  I took a good look at them and realized that I had actually cooked up a batch of mini Odwalla bars!  The have almost the exact same taste as an oatmeal Odwalla bar, but are slightly less hard and chewy.

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