To my dearest Mellowcreme Pumpkins,
Like my first real crush at age 14, you are all at once the bane of my existence and my reason for living.
You showed up for the 2010 autumn season this September, and I may be carrying an 5 extra pounds thanks to your corn syrup-y love. Between my mother and myself, we can make 1-lb bags of you disappear like magic (yet, bags of you continue to show up on my kitchen counter). I may be suing Brach's once my dental bill arrives.
The Halloween season for this year has come to a close, and your bags of orange goodness grace the drugstore shelves with much less frequency. It seems like just yesterday I was driving past Walgreens and talked myself into buying facewash that I really didn't need so that I could see if there were any more Mellowcreme pumpkins left. Oh. Well, I guess it was yesterday.
Please go away. You are so orange and cute but you spoil my dinner and rot my teeth. I love you and your pumpkin-shaped splendor, but this obsession is no longer healthy. I need to free up my thoughts so that I may once-again fill them with strange logic structures and the like.
I will miss you.
And Brach's, PLEASE do NOT come out with a Christmas-themed equivalent. Diabetes will ensue without question.
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