I'm not much of a candy eater. My eating vices include pizza, chocolate cookies, and baked goods in general. But candy? Nah. Sometimes, I do enjoy a piece of very very dark chocolate. But in general, candy can safely sit out in plain site in my house for months, even years, until I throw it out or some hapless guest takes a nibble from a seemingly enticing, but actually four year old, dried out, melted and re-hardened, shapeless mass of sugar.
In general, you can count on me to not eat your special piece of candy, but now and again, if the mood strikes me, I will have a piece. There is, however, one way of absolutely ensuring that I will not touch a piece of candy: shape it into the adorable mold of a cute woodland or barnyard creature. Even as a small child, I was unable to eat the sweet little bunnies and chicks enjoyed by so many of the other kids. But every year, I found the darling delectables in my Easter basket. As a kid, the bunnies were inevitably devoured by my siblings and parents. In college, they sat for a while before a drunken roommate would bite their heads off. After college, they would accompany me in a box through a few moves until they were unrecognizable enough for disposal without guilt.
Since I met Adam, he has dutifully handled the initial demise of my little bunnies. He chops them into little pieces, and he eats the faces. He is so helpful. Then he brings the carnage to me on a plate, not unlike the Easter feast itself.
But this year, a solution is finally reached:
Thanks to un-turn-offable flash of the phone's camera, this doesn't come through too well, but it's JUST the EARS!! At last! The chocolate industry has recognized my unfortunate plight.