As much as I roll my eyes in disgust when I see a kid who I think is coddled or overindulged, inside I’m a little brat too. With the brain of an addicted lab rat who pushes the pleasure lever whenever.
Sugar has always been my idea of a good time. My dad’s idea of a fun vacation with the kids was to take us on a very long road trip in his bright orange van (way after LoveVans were cool). It had an airbrushed scene on both sides of a desert including a few buzzards flying around. Besides the standard van rear windows, there was one tiny pop out porthole on one side. We were trapped.
We drove from the Bay Area to Minnesota, stopping at every single boring historical marker on the way there. I think I hated every minute of that trip. Oh except on the way back we found an old man mask in my stepmom’s childhood things. My brother Aaron and I would take turns popping up into the back window whenever a car would come up beside The Van. It took about twenty minutes for a car to appear in the distance. If we were lucky enough that they looked at us, there was tremendous excitement and laughs for all.
Of course of course The Van pulled over for a several hour stop at Custer’s Last Stand/The Battle of Little Bighorn. I was so upset there was no gift shop nor any refreshments. Why in the hell wasn’t there any frozen custard at Custer’s Cafe? Why wasn’t there a Custer’s Cafe? Or a Custer’s Last Candy Stand.
Why has Muir Woods never sold Chocolate Bark in their gift store?
Well maybe everyone is interested in the actual attraction rather than the candy!
Sweets are my reward to just being there. Especially if the place is boring. Boring is hard work for me.
This weekend my mom, stepdad and boyfriend helped me for several hours to unhurricane my apartment after a water heater flood. After I put in a twelve hour day of dealing with real grown up shit, I wasn't physically hungry. I was psychologically hungry for a reward. Something bad for my being so good.