If you can't laugh at your own Random...

I could blame the weather, or lack thereof, for sapping my holiday spirit. My sprint out of the gate back in October to start preparing may have been a pace hard to keep without burning out. Or maybe, just maybe, I don't have the right decor. Perhaps I need something new to add some pizzazz to my usual. Dear, what could it be? Deer?

Life-sized, green-glittered, five hundred dollar fawn? Probably the answer, yet I fear I may have to deprive myself. I will find solace somewhere, like maybe the snack shack? I bought a box of these treats last week, for both nostalgic and dollar off coupon savings reasons.

As much as I wanted to devour several Funny Bones, laughing maniacally the whole time of course, I kept waiting and wondering. Had these cakes stood the test of time? I did not want to be disappointed. Would I be transported back to the Liverpool High School cafeteria in the late eighties, where sometimes a lunch time experience highlight involved finding enough spare change to purchase a package of Drake's, or better still, a friend who was willing to share? I couldn't take the suspense any longer and stared that Funny Bone down before taking my first bite. It wasn't bad by any means. I looked at it some more, as if I was studying tea leaves. My daughter gave me that teenage girl look and asked why I was studying the food. I had no logical answer for her. It tasted the same, but just didn't feel the same. Maybe I needed leg warmers.

In other snacktastic news, I have been revisiting my s'mores passion. Exciting, I know. I had myself neatly tucked into the corner of the couch, flying without a net so to speak, as I tried to delicately eat my melted confection with no plate or napkin. I am a pro, of course I can manage such a feat! Well things got a little out of hand, or all over hand to be more accurate. I had marshmallow and chocolate on my hands that had to be dealt with in a most civilized and lady-like manner. I was a bit overzealous in my efforts and briefly mistook my healing food processor blade cut as stray chocolate and scraped it with my top teeth. Ouch. Really?

Oh yes, really. And why were my teeth even a factor in this cleanup you might ask? You didn't ask because this whole story is ridiculous enough already to you? Understood. Just in case though, the teeth were necessary for the stickier marshmallow bits, because I am classy like that.