An impromptu purchase of the outlandishly named Whatchamacallit Hershey bar gave me reason to pause as I savored its chocolate-y, peanut-y deliciousness. Just for a moment, but a moment is enough.

Firstly, candy bars are scrumptious. Unless you don’t like chocolate, in which case I doubt your humanity. Perhaps your origins lie in an outer galaxy or alternate universe. So I say again, a candy bar is a tasty treat. Diets and health crazies be damned. Whether it’s made of caramel, nougat, peanuts, those crispy rice things, or just plain ol’ chocolate, it melts your problems away as candy only can. For a few magical minutes, it’s almost as though I don’t possess eight student loans that are worth approximately two small houses.

I remember that obtaining a candy bar, when I was younger, was always my great Homerian quest. Do I have enough money for a candy bar? How can I get enough money for a candy bar? I found some change in the couch! I wonder if it’s enough to buy a candy bar. My friend has a candy bar; maybe she will share a piece of her candy bar with me. Can I convince my mother to buy me a candy bar?

The answer to that last question was almost invariably “no.” And seeing as how a nine-year-old can’t really run out into the world and make her own living, I was generally at Mom’s mercy in the candy department. She gave me countless excuses, none truly satisfying. It was bad for my teeth. (Didn’t care.) Too many sweets weren’t healthy. (What the hell did healthy have to do with it?) It was ridiculous to think of spending money on unnecessary things like candy. But those chocolate bars calling to me from the shelves in the checkout line were absolutely necessary.

So on those rare occasions where I did manage to procure a Twix, Snickers, Milky Way, Almond Joy, or York Peppermint Patty, the indulgence was particularly gratifying. I nibbled the edges away, took a few chomps out of the center, and let the last of it sit in my mouth a little so the flavor could last a couple seconds longer. All I’d be left with was the wrapper. It felt wrong to throw it away. I relished every nuance of the chocolate’s essence; then I immediately began plotting how I could lay my hands on my next candy bar.

What I realized, as I similarly savored the Whatchamacallit I was eating, is that somewhere along the line between my childhood and now, chocolate bars have simply lost the prominence they once had in my life. Why, as an independent adult with the financial means to buy as many candy bars as my little heart desires, do I not indulge the deprived child within me? I simply don’t think about chocolate candies. I pay for my groceries, gas, and Bob Evans without giving those perfect, plastic wrapped confections a second look. I forget just how delicious they really are until I happen to buy one, on an off chance, like I did on this day.

Is this merely an outward manifestation of a greater illness? Had I become…sensible? My childlike nature lost? Simple pleasures are everywhere, and in fact, sometimes the only respite from an endless list of tasks, a continuous wake-work-eat-sleep daily cycle. A sunny day in February, a chilly bottle of beer, and—it’s true, Mom—a tasty, delectable chocolate candy bar are sometimes the only things that can keep you from insanity. Insanity!

So embrace your love of that peanut-flavored crisp candy dipped in milk chocolate sometimes you feel like a nut English toffee bar light crispy wafers in chocolate topped with a layer of caramel.

“Mmm, oh, scrumptious. I think I’m going to have another one. Delectable! Can life get any better? I submit that it cannot!” -Brian Regan

This entry was posted on Tuesday, January 29th, 2008 at 3:00 pm and is filed under Nicole Timmons-Christian, Random. You can subscribe via RSS 2.0 feed to this post's comments. You can skip to the end and leave a response. Pinging is currently not allowed.