In which the Princess cannot be trusted

Our home has been invaded. The insidious intruders have made attempts before, but were thwarted by our precautions. This time, however, they joined forces and overwhelmed us. What's worse, I let them into the house myself: three bags of M&Ms.

Three bags of cute, fall-themed M&Ms. Peanut. Plain. Even candy-corn flavored.

I am at a loss to explain how this happened. All I can say is that it seemed like a good idea at the time. So did the Battle of Little Bighorn, and we see how well THAT turned out.

Perhaps I was overwhelmed by the cuteness of the M&Ms. The Hero would not have been overwhelmed by their cuteness. He is impervious to cuteness in something that will be consumed. "This wouldn't have happened if you were with me," I accused him. 

Repenting of my error in judgment, I took the excess candy to various social functions. As seriously as any group of wine tasters, we endeavored to tease out the exact flavors of the candy corn M&Ms. It elicited many flavor suggestions, although no one suggested candy corn.

Someone thought it reminiscent of cotton candy. The Hero and another male detected a distinct orange flavor. I tasted just plain white chocolate.

And one person pronounced it "just wrong."

Was she referring to my decision to buy it? It was hard to tell.

At any rate, none of the candy I bought is individually wrapped, which means I can't share it with our trick or treaters. 

What a shame.