The store I love to hate. The store that rhymes with hall-fart.
I admit it. I've been spending a lot more time there lately. I fell into the trap. The waddling prego is tired of running to a bunch of stores. When I need a few 1 hour prints and baby flannel at the same time as milk, eggs and a kitchen rug, I have been going there. Way. too. often.
Yesterday I thought it might be baby day. I was feeling perky for an hour, though, so I packed up the off track (year round school) children and headed off for a possibly final milk/bread/snack run so my family could survive for a week without me. Well, it wasn't baby day, but I found stumbled upon something very dangerous.
Tastykakes.My sister has been increasingly finding random varieties of these delicious made-in-my-home-state goodies, but not the crowning joy of Tastykakes - the Butterscotch Krimpet. Not till now.


And if you're not from back east, or have never tasted them before, don't even think of telling me that they are like Twinkies or something made by Hostess or Little Debbie. No way, man.