scene from the morning of November first
I began the day with a discussion of the reproductive biology of certain Hershey (née Peter Paul) confections.
the eldest child was scraping the leftover Halloween hand-out candy for an Almond Joy, and noticed that there were none there. I told her I had a Mounds last night, though that if one was present, the other likely is too, because I suspect that they needed both sexes for reproduction.
Which led to a discussion, of course, of sexing (as in identifying, you perv) each variety of coconut-based candy bar. I made the case that Almond Joy was the male of the species, given the obvious reference to nuts, as indicated in the classic jingle, helpfully included below:
Of course, my lovely wife made the counter-argument that Almond Joy, by virtue of having curves (ooh, those almonds are sex-ay!) is obviously female and better suited to childbearing.
Given what she was wearing, having just climbed out of bed? I couldn’t argue. not really. Curves are distracting.
The groggy teenager just rolled her eyes at us, as is appropriate.
Truly, the LGBT Ally that I am, I felt kind of bad about assigning definitive gender roles based on secondary (sexual? maybe not) characteristics of confectionary products without asking, especially since candy bars can’t express a preference, but then, as they’re non-sentient junk food products, I’m not going to worry about it too much.
What we should really be worrying about is where all those “fun sized” bars come from this time of year, but not thinking too hard about what kind of unsanitary substances are left behind on retail candy racks full of regular and “king size” bars during rutting season.
ew.
