MY BROTHER AND THE REESE'S PIECES DISASTER

Dear Younger-But-Not-Youngest Brother:

(North Beach - See our shadows?)

I had a blast with you last weekend when you drove four-plus hours (after the ferry ride across the upper part of Lake Champlain) to run an errand that is less than a mile from my house.  I enjoyed all the laughs, the food, the wine, the gallivanting around between Maine, the beaches of New Hampshire, Newburyport, and our old home town (still my home town). 

I especially enjoyed that you brought snacks!  Holy crap, dude, MONSTER TRAIL MIX!  There is very little in this world that is better than Monster Trail Mix. 

Oh, sure, I made refrigerator chocolate chip cookies in an attempt to out-do you, and I bought gooey cupcakes that accidentally fell over upside down in the container, but still.  The best part?  You also brought along Reese's Pieces.  Now, I'm not much of a fan of Reese's Pieces, but while you were eating those suckers, I was stuffing my fat hand into that bag of Monster Trail Mix like I was headed to the gallows at any given second and picked my last meal ... of Monster Trail Mix.

Of course, the hilarious part was when you lost one of the Reese's Pieces in my car.  You were afraid it would melt into the front passenger seat and leave a stain.  Not to worry.  My car seats are Scotch-Guarded against such disasters.  But, then you admitted you were also kind of concerned that the errant Reese's Pieces candy might melt and make it look like you had some kind of weird pooh stain on the sitter portion of your jeans.

Well, Brother, I am pleased to admit two things.  The first thing that I am pleased to admit is that you did not have any type of brown chocolatey-peanut butter butt freckle on your pants, at least not that I could tell.  I wasn't really looking because that would be weird and because, to be completely honest, we got laughing so hard chatting in the car that I totally forgot about the situation.

(No pooh for you!)

The second thing that I am pleased to admit is that when I left work today, two full days after your departure, I FOUND that blasted Reese's Pieces pellet right in the middle of the floor on the passenger side.  It was mixed in with all the schmutz we brought into the car during our rainy morning scenic adventure, the one we took right before you left.

So, Little Bro, no worries about anyone else in my car accidentally sitting in a half-melted candy and being butt-tattooed by the Reese's corporation.  Even though it has been exceptionally warm the last couple of days, I found that little candy bastard fully intact and in no way, shape, or form missing its outer shell nor inner gunk.  I know you, though.  You probably worried at every rest area and again on the ferry home: Do I have a brown spot on my derriere?  Do my jeans look like I didn't stop driving soon enough?  Do I need to be considering adult diapers so soon in my young life?

It's okay, Kid.  Candy has been rescued; crisis has been averted.

Oh, and HAPPY BELATED BIRTHDAY!  I figured since the card wasn't quite as funny as usual, embarrassing you with a semi-truthful blog would do the trick.