In the interest of talking about something that isn't named Sandy, let me just tell you about the nightmare that is gummy eyeballs.
Remember these?
I'm specifically referring to the cupcake on top. Those eyeballs.
When I set out to make those cupcakes, I might have used the need to make monster faces as an excuse to go shopping. It's possible that I have a thing for gummy candies and HOLLA! I got to buy FIVE WHOLE POUNDS of gummy candies under the guise of needing something to make those faces!
And then I went and used some other candy for the eyes on most of the cupcakes, but whatever. It's never sad to wind up with five pounds of gummy candy and no reason to share it to anyone else. I cherished those five pounds of gummy eyeballs. I worshipped them. I declared them MINE, MINE, MINE, GET YOUR GRUBBY HANDS OFF THEY ARE MIIIIIINE.
I didn't lock them up or anything, though. I tossed them in a bag and left them on the kitchen counter. I'm much more likely to chase the other humans in the house away from my candy with threats than I am to go find hidden candy, so I had to keep it handy.
Life was good for a few days. I periodically would reach into that bag and grab a handful of delightful little eyeballs and happily snack away. An eyeball here ... an eyeball there ... happy eyeballs everywhere!
So, this is the point in the blog post where at least one reader is getting all sorts of high and mighty and feeling the need to tell me that gummy candy isn't vegetarian. Guys. I know. I KNOW. I have spent years mourning the horses that have died for my gummy obsession.
So, the jig is up. I'm not a real vegetarian. I haven't eaten a cow or pig or fish in 22 years, but I have happily chowed down on ground-up horse bones and hooves.
And this is the point in the blog post where at least one reader is getting all sorts of kerfluffled as he or she tries to figure out what I'm talking about. Gelatin. Google it. It is not vegetarian. It is gross. Very, very gross.
I still eat it. Sometimes.
And lately has been my "sometimes" because I have been all about the gummy eyeballs. Mmmmm ... horse bones shaped like eyeballs!
Saturday morning Alexis and I were rushing around as we prepared to run errands. In the chaos of our rushing, I somehow forgot to eat breakfast. But no matter! I had gummy eyeballs! I reached into the bag to grab a handful and turned on my heels to march out the back door and ...
... something wasn't quite right.
Just as I was about to pop a gummy eyeball into my mouth, I looked at my fist full of gummies.
And one lonely stinkbug.
It sat on my hand, half crushed by the force of the gummy grab. It twitched a few times, clearly a reaction to the sugar high it was feeling. It moved a leg, much like an addict reaching for one last fix.
I threw the handful of gummy eyeballs and that one lonely stinkbug into the sink so fast you would have thought there was a stinkbug in my hand. WHICH THERE WAS. ON MY SKIN. TWITCHING. GAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAH.
I shoved it all down the disposal and turned the hottest of hot water on and ground it all up. GOOD RIDDANCE. BE GONE. WHY OH WHY DID IT HAVE TO TOUCH MY GUMMIES? WAAAAAAAAAAH!
So, now what do I do? It has been a few days and I haven't been able to talk myself into eating any more gummy eyeballs. I think about it for a second, but then I get all gaggy and pukey and NOOOO WAY. Do I throw away the nearly five pounds of gummy eyeballs that remain? Do I throw away the gummies and the bag and the counter they were sitting on? Do I burn the whole house down because OMG STINKBUG IN MY GUMMY EYEBALLS. WAAAAH.
Welcome to my gummy eyeball nightmare.