well hello there childhood, nice to see you again

Today i was in Office Max at lunch time and snagged a soda on my way to the cash register, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but a bag of BUGLES. i don't know about you, but i crunched many a Bugle as a kid, and over the course of several summers goofing off at the lake with my siblings and cousins, probably put over a thousand Bugles on my fingertips and waved my hand around like a weirdo, cackling like a witch. i guess i'd thought that Bugles had gone the way of Peter Pan peanut butter and other 80s food gems. i didn't expect to ever do Crazy Hands again and certainly didn't expect to find this high fructose time capsule at my local Office Max. So i bought and scarfed. Then i realized that before i ate every last Bugle (my brain keeps insisting that the singular form of Bugle is Buge, not sure why) i should make some into finger-hats and take a cell-phone picture. Because i'm a grown up like that. i chose a few Buges with the biggest circumference and tried to fit my fingertips into the greasy salt pits, but it wouldn't happen. Time has robbed me. Turns out i no longer have the fingertips of a 6 year old, and the Bugles did not grow with me. (does anything ever grow with us? it seems not) Let us have a moment of silence and remembrance for lost days at the lakeshore, lost silliness and childish metabolism.