Tragedy Strikes

I was surprised to open my blog viewer editing page thingy and find that this blog had over 500 views. I only have one follower though, so what does that say...?

Regardless, I figured since I put all the time and effort into establishing this blog, I might as well continue to update it. It's hard to find time to blog with a full time job and a child, but for you--yes you, my solo follower--I will post on!

Sadly, this entry is not one of humor, but one of tragedy. Read on only if you think your fragile heart can handle the pain.

Several weeks ago was when I originally became inspired to update this blog. I don't remember exactly what once again sparked my desire to experiment with the foreign food (though I'm pretty confident it had something to do with a chocolate craving), but I did finally come crawling back to the Rebox shoebox....

I remember one Christmas during my childhood where there was a package under the tree that I just KNEW was a stuffed animal. I was obsessed with them as a kid (almost as much as I was with candy) so when I grabbed the light weight, squishy package from the pile of other gifts, I could hardly contain my joy. My excitement was tangible, I was so thrilled! That was until I tore the paper off to reveal...

{{pause for dramatic effect}}

...socks.

And when I went to retrieve food (probably chocolate) from the Rebox shoebox, it felt like that Christmas moment all over again. Not only was there no chocolate, there was hardly anything else either. There were no pizza shapes and no twisty crunchy thingies either (I had two packs if I remember correctly, both gone). There were other snacks gone too that I can't remember (I have a list but I'm too lazy to retrieve it). All that remained were some bo peep hard candies (is that what they're called?), some blue airplane Jell-O looking stuff, a can of milo, and chicken salt.

Obviously, my first action was to do what anyone in my position would do--accuse my husband. But he denied it and I believe him. He really wouldn't eat the stuff, he knew its value to me. And so I started asking everyone who had been in the house that past month or so. No one has ever admitted guilt and the items were never found.

Frustrated and discouraged, my inspiration to blog again died.

Fortunately my supplier, hearing of my tragic loss, took sympathy and sent a small care package replacement consisting of more pizza shapes and (<3 xoxox) chocolate and orange Tim Tams! I have hidden the pizza shapes and I consumed all the Tim Tams with the exception of one biscuit that I am saving for a Tim Tam Slam, should I ever get around to it.

So there you have it.

Taste testing to be continued...