Tag Archives: Fridge

The Best Kind Of Candy

The best kind of candy is the kind you didn’t know you had.

I’m not talking about specific types of candy. I mean, that’s not even a contest.

Everyone knows that the best candy is Reese’s peanut-butter cups in whichever configuration is on sale at the moment. Be it eggs, trees, jack-o-lanterns or just plain cups, Reese’s peanut butter candies are the absolute best.

Hands down. End of competition. Drops the mic and walks away.Reese's peanut butter eggs are the very best candy ever in the history of sweet, sweet candy. I love them more than any other candy.

However. . .

That being said, I do believe that there is only one way that Reese’s could be better. It’s the same way that every other candy also can become better.*

And that’s if you find it even though you thought you were out.

Here it is, a week past the last candy-giving holiday, one in which the giving of Reese’s peanut butter eggs is almost considered mandatory, and I thought I’d long finished the candy I purchased to give away to the various members of Casa de Dude, be they on the mailing list or be they getting it by hand.

The odds of any sort of candy lasting a week in this house are slim and none and slim just left the building. Mostly to go meet with his nickname support group. He’s a big guy, Slim.

Anywho. . .

In Casa de Dude, candy gets eaten. Even when my wife, known to me as She Who Must Be Avoiding Carbs Like A Vampire Avoids Roasted Garlic Steaks**, has been known to chow down on candy that’s been forced into her mouth and made to swallow. Or that has been left out. Or that has been hidden away in a not-very-good hiding place, like, say, behind the fridge, under a decoy pile of trash.

We like our candy, is what I’m saying.

Hyper Lad especially. Which, come to think of it, might have something to do with his nickname.

In the normal course of events, candy goes quickly in this house. Which I thought was what had happened to the three Reese’s peanut butter eggs that I found yesterday. I immediately checked to make sure they were left over from a week ago, not a year and a week ago. Not that it would have stopped me from eating them, but I at least felt slightly more virtuous this way.

There were three. By coincidence, there are three members of the family still living inside the friendly confines of Casa de Dude at the moment. What luck! What fortune!

What are you, nuts? Of course I didn’t tell them about my find. I mean, I might have. If the candy had lasted longer than the 2.4377281374 minutes it took me to rip them from their hiding place, unwrap them and shove them all into my mouth.

Nom. Nom. Nom.

And they were delicious. So delicious, in fact, that the wonderful taste easily overpowered the tiny, shrieking nubbin of guilt that got swallowed along with the found candy.

mmmmmmmmm caaaaaaannnnddyyyyy mmmmmmm

Footnotes & Errata

* With the exception of Twizzlers or Red Vines. There is nothing that can make those two appalling misnomers for candy taste better than the sludge from which they’re made. ick
* See what I did there? It is a pune, or play on words.

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Another Peek At The Future

by Richard

The future keeps breaking through into the present, usually in ways we never thought it would.

For instance, today I’m getting ready to take Sarcasmo on a trip to Idaho for a look at another bit of education. I’m coming back. He’s not.

Hyper Lad is away at Camp Cheerio.

The only one of the young dudes still home is Zippy the Monkey Boy, who just returned from a near-month-long trip to Fiji, New Zealand and Australia (makes me wish I was one of my own kids) and is getting ready to head off to the University of North Carolina Wilmington in just about a month.

So we’re down to one kid, two adults, two cats, a dog and a bird.

Yeah, the nest officially is getting a little bit emptier.

Especially considering Zippy the Monkey Boy is the type to sleep in until someone goes into his room and tips his bed over onto the floor. Mornings are going to be pretty quiet for the next little while.

I guess it’s something I’ll have to get used to.

When school starts up Aug. 27, it’s going to be quite real and quite quiet.

Hyper Lad is off to school by 8:30 am and that’s it. Nothing to do with kids until he gets home near 5 pm.

Still not sure how this is going to work. I mean, I haven’t had to cook for only three people (one child) for a long, long time. I have a feeling I’m going to be making a lot of accidental leftovers for the first couple of months.

Maybe I can buy that huge storage fridge I’ve had my eye on for a while. Get a place to put the stuff away . . . Well, realistically, never look at it again. Making leftovers? Yeah, I’m good at that. Serving leftovers? Not so much.

Of course, with Zippy the Monkey Boy leaving the house, our grocery bill will almost immediately come down a substantial amount since I’ll no longer have to buy his, and his alone, normal ration of 2.5 gallons of milk per week.

Ah well. That’s in the future, which is only waving hi this week. I’m sure it’ll be coming for a much longer visit next month.

Until then. . .

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Universal Translator

by Richard

So the other day I was watching the original Men in Black with the young dudes. Not that we make a habit of watching these sorts of movies (snicker. Yeah, right), but with the new sequel coming out, the original is all over the place.

Anyway, the bit that struck me was the part where Will Smith’s character and Tommy Lee Jones’ character are looking at some of the examples of alien tech that fund the organization. Smith’s K points out a universal translator.

“We’re not even supposed to have this and I’ll tell you why,” K says. “Human thought is so primitive it’s looked upon as an infectious disease in some of the better galaxies. That kind of makes you proud, doesn’t it?”

Disregarding the sorts of things that make K proud, that got me thinking about how much good a universal translator would be for dudes with kids. Seriously, think about it.

When the infant dude is crying, you’d actually be able to know why, instead of having to guess and hope for the best like we do today.

We might also be able to use to find out that, nope, Timmy isn’t down the well,Buzz just really wants a good scratch and maybe some of that bacon we cooked a week or so ago.

Imagine turning the universal translator on near a teenager. You’d be able to cut through the sarcasm, the defensive cynicism and the show of indifference and get to the teenaged dude’s real thoughts and feelings. Of course, most of those will concern getting a good scratch and maybe some of that bacon in the fridge, but at least you wouldn’t have to endure the scathing condescension.

No matter how useful it could be, though, there are situations in which I’d dare not bring it out.

Of course, I’d never actually use the universal translator on my wife, known to me as She Who Must Be Taken Literally Except When She Doesn’t Want To And Doesn’t Tell Me When It Changes Because I Should Just Know, or, really, any wife. I mean, having it try to translate the umptillion definitions of fine alone would probably be enough to send it shrieking back home, wailing for its silicon mommy. I mean, I’m not that cruel.

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