So pretty much Dad brought home a ginormous box of peppermint patties sometime in the winter, which naturally sent me into a fit of excitement, and proceeded to inform me that we could NOT have them because they were for some something at work. Or something.

It was horrible.

Every time I went to get something out of the fridge in the garage I would come face to face with a giant box of heavenly goodness that was off limits. It just sat there. Teasing. Saying “Nah nah nah nah you can’t eat me.”

It’s pretty bad. For a while I was having trouble sleeping at night knowing they were down there.


So now, after all this time, they’re still in there. So I’m going to go ask Dad if I can have them since apparently “work” doesn’t need them all that bad.

I’ll let you know how that goes.

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