Along about 3:45 this afternoon, I experienced a miracle not unlike that of the loaves and fishes.
"I just found peanut M&Ms in my desk!" I announced triumphantly to no one in particular.
"Woooow," came the reply from Mindy next door.
A few minutes later:
"They don't even taste old!" I said. "They don't really taste all that fresh either..."
Mindy darkened my door frame, holding a small box in one hand and two bright green foil-wrapped somethings in the other. "I'll trade you a box of conversation hearts and two marshmallow bunnies for two M&Ms," she said.
"I'll give you four M&Ms if you give me the hearts and keep the bunnies," I told her. "I hate marshmallows in all their permutations."
"I hate 'em like this," Mindy agreed, eyeing her bunnies disdainfully. "I love them in Rice Crispy treats, though."
"Not me!" I said as I munched another M&M. As I was searching the package for a blue one, a light dawned in Mindy's eyes.
"Hey! Let's take a couple of jars of this community service peanut butter and open 'em up. We could jam the marshmallow bunnies down in the middle and reseal 'em."
"Ooooh! Good idea!"
"We'll use creamy peanut butter. That way it'll be easier to get the bunnies down in there."
"Yeah!" I was getting excited about the idea. "We should microwave the peanut butter first."
"And freeze the bunnies!" I said.
"Oh, good! Then we can push the bunnies down into the hot peanut butter and it will be perfect!"
"Yeah," I agreed. "We should put them in ears first."
"True," she said. "That would be a lot easier."
"Yeah, little bunnies headfirst into the peanut butter, nothing but their feet sticking out of the top. It's like a Marshmallow Mafia hit."
We ate some more M&Ms. Then we went back to work.