My boss and I have this thing where at least 2-3 times a week, one of us buys some form of chocolate on our lunch break. You see, chocolate is what stands between us and a mountain of stress. Well, that and Cool Whip.
Have I spoken of my love for the whip that is both cool and refreshing? No? It could probably be described as a minor obsession. In the hierarchy of personal obsessions, Cool Whip falls somewhere between Richard Simmons and face creams. Two subjects that I'm ashamed to say occupy far more of my attention than is probably healthy.
Once, back in high school my mom asked what I wanted for my birthday cake, and I replied quite seriously that I wanted "a tub of Cool Whip that no one else is allowed to eat". Needless to say, I got my tub. Unfortunately, that still didn't prevent me from pitching an epic sized fit (like only 16 year old girls can) when someone other than me, dared to dunk a finger into that little tub-o-deliciousness. Since then, plenty of well-intentioned/concerned friends have read me the ingredients list, rightfully observing that Cool Whip is not so much a dairy product, as it is a witches' brew of chemicals waiting to rot my stomach. What they fail to understand is that in my mind, even if it does rot my stomach, at least I'm going down happy.
So, just imagine what my jaw did when I opened a pack of Reese's Peanut Butter cups and saw that the liner was advertising Reese's Whipps. For one brief, awesome moment I envisioned all the snacks that would benefit from a dunking in whatever product combined three of my favorite things: whipped topping, chocolate and peanut butter. I could not google it fast enough. But nooooooooooooooooooo, Hershey's was just toying with my emotions. Reese's Whipps with two stupid p's instead of one, is a candy bar. And now? Well, now I'm just kind of bitter.
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