I wish I were making this up
Every time I post something I've found in a parenting magazine in a waiting room, I bet hundreds of you — well, dozens — okay, fine, a single imaginary reader who exists solely in my head strictly for rhetorical purposes sighs, "Oh, Julie, I wish you went to the doctor's office more often."
And then, inside my head where my imaginary reader lives in kind of a fantastical Barbie Dream House, I laugh merrily in that melodious way I have and say, "Why, I simply don't see how I could!" (Every two weeks, friends. Every two weeks.)
But I do think I may have found the topper, the ne plus ultra, the thing-I-ripped-out-of-a-magazine-that-doesn't-belong-to-me to end all things-I-ripped-out-of-a-magazine-that-doesn't-belong-to-me. Which doesn't mean I'll stop; just that it's gonna be a lot harder to appall me after this.
Just in case you need a closer look at the bottom right corner because you don't believe your lyin' eyes:
Yes, it's Lunchables Jr., for small children whose palates are presumably too unsophisticated for the more grown-up varieties of Lunchable, such as the delectable little morsels the nice people at Oscar Mayer like to call Mess With Your Mouth Chicken Dunks. (The Cheerio-chomping Philistines.) Billed as "wholesome fun for your little one," Lunchables Jr. come in three assortments: crackers/raisins/peanut butter, crackers/cheese/turkey, and cookies/cheese/"strawberry yogurt-flavored dip." "Say goodbye to countless plastic baggies," invites Oscar Mayer's Web site, because "life on the go just got easier." And I guess more strawberry-flavored flavored.
Well, to me three choices just don't provide enough variety. I hope that they branch out a bit by the time I'm ready to be offering my own fairy princess — boy or girl — prepackaged servings of high-fructose fun. After all, I'd hate to have to shape those beaks and snouts into finger-friendly shapes myself.