I’m coming off of a weekend bender, and all of my Facebook friends watched it all unfold.
I’m talking about my addiction to my mother-in-law’s trail mix.
Or, I should say, “trail mix”. In quotes.
I wrote about said “trail mix” before, about five years ago. That’s how much it impacts my life: it warrants two blog posts.
This “trail mix” is always sitting on my in-laws’ fireplace in a huge jar that screams, “COME AND GET SOME!!” Okay, it doesn’t really scream because jars can’t make noise. But you get the idea.
We cannot resist this stuff. I posted a picture a couple of days ago on my Facebook wall and that turned into a running commentary. I was very amused that so many of my friends asked what was in the “trail mix” and how requests to send them some or even make a personal delivery multiplied each time I posted pictures like this:
Clever (if I do say so myself) captions and statuses included:
The ‘trail mix’ that my mother-in-law always has available in a humongous jar in the family room is my downfall every single time we visit. Perhaps that’s because its ingredients are more suited for the Candy Land Trail than the Appalachian Trail.
This is the offensively horrible “trail mix” I gorge on every time I set foot into my in-laws’ home, Easter-style. And by “offensively horrible” I mean “freakin delicious and addictive”.
My sister-in-law just arrived and guess what she did as soon as she put her purse down? WENT TO GET SOME TRAIL MIX. It’s evil, you guys. There is no denying the trail mix.
My stomach hurts. I wonder if it has anything to do with the trail mix.
Happy Easter to all of my friends who celebrate! I will eat some trail mix later, in honor of the occasion.
Favorite comments by friends included:
“It has nuts…it qualifies as trail mix in my book” (Stephanie)
“You know some people might just call that a bowl of candy right??? I’m not judging….I wonder if we can put vodka lemonade in a camelback and call it a sports drink.” (Sabrina)
“I just think it’s funny that it’s labeled ‘trail mix,’ instead of ‘mixed-up candy bowl freakout.'” (Jocelyn)
I really do have a perpetual stomach ache for the duration of our visits to my in-laws’ home. I wonder why. Everybody does. We walked in today and found my twenty-one-year-old niece sitting with a coffee cup in her hands. I thought, “Huh, it’s too warm for coffee this afternoon,” and soon found out it was trail mix. I mean, “trail mix”.
I may or may not have caught my husband sitting on the couch with the jar on his lap, trying to figure out how he could shake it around to get all of one ingredient out of there without making a scene.
I will not get on the scale until about a week after I arrive back home, just to allow things to even back out. Holy cow.
People have been asking for an ingredient list, and there really isn’t one that’s set. This “trail mix” is a lot like that Amish Friendship Bread recipe that you get from a friend and then add something every couple of days before taking a measuring cup of the mix out, making one loaf of bread, and then passing on the starter to someone else. My mother-in-law just buys new bags of *insert something sweet here* adds it to the jar, and gives it a stir.
That said, I can give you an idea of what’s in there.
CURRENTLY, the trail mix contains:
M&M’s (plain and peanut)
Chocolate-covered cherries, blueberries, & apricots
Mini peanut butter cups
Cadbury mini eggs (for Easter, you know)
There were also some mysterious chocolate cubes of some kind in there, but I couldn’t positively identify them except to know deep in my soul that they were not sugar- or fat-free.
My biggest hope is that Jim and I will quickly devour the baggie of “trail mix” I brought with us when we said goodbye earlier this evening as we drive home, and I will subsequently not want to see any of those ingredients for a very long time…or at least until our next visit, in June.
Oh sure, I could throw the baggie away, but are you CRAZY?? No way.
At least I have admitted I have a problem. I hear that’s the first step.