One more word about Russell Stover Chocolate Marshmallow Bunnies

Ok...one more word on the Russell Stover chocolate marshmallow bunny. As you may already know (if you managed to make it through my last ridiculously long blog submission),  my friend, Amanda, at my request, is good-naturedly holding my cache of candy hostage. So today, when I hurried down to the opposite end of the school building to visit her (and my bunnies), I was unprepared for what accompanied my arrival. Waiting until I had happily by-passed the second marshmallow-filled ear, Amanda gently broke the news. "After today, there are only four left." I flew through the five stages of grief in about five seconds flat. Amanda had pre-planned for the accusations and blame stage by having carefully documented the distribution of each rabbit. As a result of the hyper-fit I threw today, that was accompanied by some pretty unforgivable language, my signature will now be required prior to future disbursements.  "I'm sorry, Amanda. I didn't mean to call you all of  those names," I apologized later. "I know," she replied softly, "It was the grief talking."

What was I going to do? The answer came to me, ironically enough, later that day in the dentist chair. I ventured into the neighboring Rite-Aid and perused their impressive selection of Russell Stover products. Disappointed but determined not to leave empty-handed, I headed over to the candy bar section. I was pleased to see Skor bars (another difficult to track down treat). Sharing this small victory with the cashier, Arlene (my Rite-Aid Well-Being Ambassador), she responded by congratulating me before asking if I had found everything I needed. "Well, actually, Arlene," I confided, "I was really hoping to find Russell Stover chocolate marshmallow bunnies but you didn't have any." "Yes we do," Arlene responded, already heading out onto the store-floor. "No," I said, certain that I was right and unwilling to allow even a ray of hope to seep into my heart, "Russell Stover chocolate marshmallow bunnies wrapped in blue foil." "Yeah," Arlene, my Rite-Aid Well-Being Ambassador, yelled over her shoulder, "Over here."

And there they were. Arlene, my Rite-Aid Well-Being Ambassador, and I stared at the generously-filled box of blue foiled-wrapped Russell Stover chocolate marshmallow bunnies sitting on the shelf like they'd been waiting just for me. I wrapped Arlene, my Rite-Aid Well-Being Ambassador, in my arms in a heartfelt embrace. Words weren't necessary. Then she left me alone with my thoughts and my bunnies. I had already formulated a complicated equation to address how many bunnies were necessary for purchase. My magic number was seven. My four existing bunnies would see me through the remainder of this week. I have seven school days before I depart for Paris. As I was starting to develop a bit of a "bunny belly," I planned to use my ten-day trip to Paris as a sort of cold-turkey (cold-bunny) rehab program.

I approached Arlene, my Rite-Aid Well-Being Ambassador, who was waiting at the check-out counter with my Skor bars, carrying my carefully calculated eight bunnies (one extra for when I wasn't under the watchful eye of Amanda). "Why don't you just buy the whole box so your bunnies won't get crushed." asked Arlene, my Rite-Aid Well-Being Ambassador, who was also obviously concerned about the well-being of my bunnies as well. And that's how I ended up buying fourteen more Russell Stover chocolate marshmallow bunnies. Don't worry, by this time tomorrow, thirteen of those little guys will be safe in the hands of Amanda.