Frosted animal crackers
Today, on the way back from the South Dakota Festival of Books, Kerrie purchased some frosted animal crackers from the Al’s Oasis grocery store.
Up until this point, it had been a rough ride. Kerrie was riding shotgun with a 103-degree fever. I was still feeling the after-effects of a restless night bouncing between two beds. Isaac was tired of the car, and Sierra was simply tired. No one was happy. Everyone was frustrated. The car ride needed some lightening up.
The animal crackers were supposed to be that lightening up.
Hopping back in the car and turning out of the parking lot, Kerrie grabbed the bag of crackers. Anticipation peaked.
Kerrie opened them up and groaned.
Because the package revealed nothing of the product’s actual makeup, we were expecting the classic frosted animal crackers. True animal crackers with a slight streak of frosting. These weren’t frosted; they were dipped in mediocre cake frosting, dotted with sprinkles and lacking anything remotely like a classic animal cracker. In fact, in the fine print, we realized they were, in fact, “animal shaped shortbread cookies.”
Kerrie took one bite. “Ugh.” She threw the other bite back in the bag.
I took a bite. “Gross.”
Kerrie, without thinking, reached in and took another bite, this time to confirm her suspicions. “Ick.”
We sulked. Yet, a few hours later, I found myself snacking on them.
What’s more, so did Kerrie.
And while she had the good sense to stop after a handful, I kept shoving them in my mouth. I didn’t like them, but at the time, I had nothing else to go by.
As I was driving, I thought to myself, “There’s a life lesson here somewhere.”
I flipped on my blinker, passed another car, and kept on my way.