Fiber One Caramel Nut: $3.99/Box of 5/Target

fiberone_caramelnut (3)I like food shopping. I occasionally like guilty-pleasure shopping, like staring at the colorful displays at Sephora the way I would’ve ogled plexiglass cubbies with attached shovels for scooping out jellybeans, gummy root beers, or sno-caps as a kid. I even sometimes like solo-shopping at Nordstrom Rack, given the uninterrupted opportunity to take stacks of jeans into a dressing room. I’ve learned recently that I don’t like car shopping (but that may be because my car was already fantastic and it should never have been totaled by the texting jackhole) and I’m currently learning that I don’t really like house shopping. It’s such a big commitment, shopping for where I’ll be living for many many some-odd head-scratching 10 or more (?) years. (I figure at least until Joanna /cry-inge/ leaves for college.) I wasn’t very involved in the purchase of our current house 10 years ago, so I wanted to have more of a say this time around, but it’s overwhelming, and I feel like there will always be a person interested in the same house right before us, or right after us, like a Price is Right bidder, prepared to make a better offer than us. And if I find what looks to be the “perfect” house, it gets scooped up by somebody else right away, just like those buttered popcorn Jelly Belly jellybeans got scooped up by everybody other than me because I always thought that they were the most revolting flavor ever made.

Louise and I drove past a few houses that we’re interested in yesterday on our way to Home Depot to buy yet another can of paint to try to touch up the years of crayon smudges, handprints, food splatters, and scuffmarks from around our house. With a hunger-gurgle approaching, I reached for a Fiber One Protein Caramel Nut bar that turned out to be so slightly reminiscent of a buttered popcorn jellybean. Not so much that I was grossed out, but just enough of that salty buttery flavor that I knew it wouldn’t continue being a bar that I would enjoy. (I shared a bite with Louise because, well, it wouldn’t have been nice of me to chomp through a bar with her pleading eyes reflected back in the rearview mirror.) With a swell of my heart, we pulled up to one of the houses that just whispered “mine mine mine” to me from the curb. Without going inside and having only looked at its pictures online, I know that there may be something hideously wrong with it, but as the Fiber One Caramel Nut descended into my belly, quelling my hunger at least until lunchtime, I let my imagination place Joanna on the driveway with her sidewalk chalk drawing positive girl-power messages and doodles like “Dream Big!” and “Love is all around!”, Louise in the grass with her new bubble gun, Tom mowing the yard with his navy bandana wrapped around his face like a bandit, and me biking down the street. Yes, I can see us living there, and when we go tour it tomorrow with our realtor, I will butter up the listing agent or owners in the hopes that maybe it will become our new landing place. 3/5
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