The Mystery of Crunch Island and Other Perils

Who could forget
Jean LaFoote?

Perhaps its due to a long work week, filled with some very long hours, but my mind is a bit gummy today. On days like this, its best to think of things that truly do not matter. So here it goes. Do you remember when Pringle cans required careful hand dexterity so as not to slice one’s skin upon retrieving a chip? I do. The same skill was needed when digging into a can of shoe string potatoes. As the salt was plentiful, even a small cut was impossible to ignore.

I also remember when  a Snickers bar was wrapped in a paper wrapper. Do you remember the rotund powdery suckers that used to be kept in a large, clear plastic container near the check out? I do. I always bought those. They were cheap and sweet. I’m glad to say my taste’s have since catapulted in the other direction. Those suckers used to rip apart the roof of my mouth. Yet I kept buying them. Of course nothing was more brutal on the roof of one’s mouth than Cap’n Crunch cereal. I also remember how maddening it was that they put the little trinket, included in every box, on the bottom. At first I would drill my hand down into the cereal, wiggling my fingers, hoping to feel for the small toy (nothing's yummier than eating cereal that's been manhandled by your sister - sorry dear brother). Finally, I would resort to dumping the entire box into a bowl. After grabbing the good-for-nothing toy, I then had the rough task of pouring all the cereal back into the inner plastic bag. Somehow I never could get the cereal to go back into the box in a manner that allowed the box to close properly. So there in our pantry sat a bloated box of Cap'n Crunch. I think it was my brother who finally deduced the easiest method of toy extraction was to simply open the box from the bottom. Sure there were no interlocking flaps on the bottom for closing the box, but who cared. We had bigger problems back then; a cereal box that didn't close was not one of them.

I remember when my mother had her “colors” done. This was huge. It was the 80’s and it was all about Color Me Beautiful. This was a system of matching one’s complexion to a particular season. I was an autumn. Which was also my favorite season back then, so I felt such a pairing was kismet. I believe there was an expensive make-up set involved that once I convinced my mother I would die without, drained her wallet considerably. Or was the make-up kit from Mary Kay; that too was a big deal in our home. Those are hazy memories though.

Maybe that is why my mind is bouncing onto such thoughts, as it too feels hazy today. At the time those little moments seemed like nothing. Yet, now older, I know all those seemingly nothing moments added up to a whole lot of something. 

Sane