Mary brought home some Animal Crackers. Mind, you I hadn’t tasted one in a very long time, so I couldn’t wait to pop one into my mouth.
The little biscuits come in a bag now and no longer the rectangular box with the string handle. But that didn’t matter to me as I dug into them.
A hippo – that was the first animal out of the bag. But wait I thought, “Are my hands that much bigger since the last time I had one?”
Never mind, I tossed the cracker in my mouth and started chewing. Instead of the sweet delectable goo, I found myself with a mouthful of flat, sticky dough.
This wasn’t anything at all like my childhood memory.
Alas, like so many things from kid-hood, someone in the hope of making a better, healthier or profitable product had vanquished another small pleasure in life. Half-chewed, I pulled the paste from my mouth and offered it to our chow-hound Lab.
Even he turned his head away, not willing to sample the food he had been so heartily begging to be given. So I dropped it, along with the remaining bag of cookies in the garbage can.
Being a grown up shouldn’t have to be so disappointing.