What’s Your Snack Obsession?
Throughout history mankind has undertaken many important and daunting quests. The quest to discover the source of the Nile, the quest to circumnavigate the globe, the quest to land on the moon.
My own personal quest is no less important, and is proving no less daunting, than those historic ventures. I am on a quest to discover a store that sells Drake’s Funny Bones! (Cue Monty Python “shrubbery!” sound effect.)
In case you’re not familiar with Funny Bones (and if you’re not, what an empty life you’ve led), they’re rectangular chocolate cakes filled with peanut butter flavored crème and covered with milk chocolate frosting. Think Yodel with peanut butter instead of white crème. Or, just think “awesome.”
For several years one of our local grocery store chains regularly stocked Funny Bones. Then one dark day the snack inexplicably disappeared from the shelves. I don’t remember the exact date (you’d have to be some kind of obsessive to remember something like that) but it was April 12th 2009.
Each time I visited one of this chain’s stores I would make sure to stop by the baked goods section, hoping I’d be awakened from this horrible nightmare. But time and time again … no Funny Bones.
How could the shelves be filled with Ring Dings and Devil Dogs and Yodels, I railed to the heavens, even Swiss Rolls – which are neither Swiss nor rolls – but no Funny Bones?! (It would be about then that the store manager would ask me ‘to please quiet down.’)
A light appeared at the end of the tunnel last year during summer vacation when I found a store at the Delaware shore that carried Funny Bones. We loaded up with six boxes before the trip home.
Me: “We could fit a few more boxes if we left some luggage behind.”
Wife: “We’re not leaving our luggage behind!”
Me: “How about the kid?”
This year, about half way down on the trip to the shore, my wife suddenly exclaimed: “Funny Bones!” Nothing else needed to be said, as we both drifted off into a chocolate and peanut butter-induced reverie.
Imagine our disappointment when we drove to the store the first night at the beach and discovered … no Funny Bones! Sure we had sun, surf and sand, but … Should we just turn around and drive home?
Then, last weekend, in the smallest of convenience stores in the smallest of towns outside Albany, we came across a single pack of three Funny Bones on the shelf. For a brief moment my wife and I eyed each other like desperate hyenas struggling for survival on the African plain. She might even have snarled at me.
Cooler heads prevailed and we managed to actually get in the car before greedily ripping the packet open. Now we were faced with a math problem:
3 Funny Bones = 1 each with 1 left over.
Is that snarling I hear again? We could save the odd one for the kid, but then again, he doesn’t need to know about any of this ugliness.
To my eternal gratitude, my wife let me have the 3rd Funny Bone. I saved it for the ride home. While I enjoyed it, the experience was bittersweet as I knew I was driving home to Binghamton … a town without Funny Bones.
You might be asking, Why doesn’t he just stop whining and get online and order some Funny Bones? Sure, I could do that. But I think that deep down I’m enjoying this little quest. The excitement of not knowing when or where the next Funny Bone will turn up makes actually getting my hands on some that much better.
Do you have your own snack quest? You know, that favorite guilty pleasure you just can’t seem to find anymore? Let us know!
Now, if you’ll excuse me I’m off to an FBA meeting – Funny Bones Anonymous.
Maybe they’ll have snacks …