The fruity chips

Growing up, Easter got the same treatment in my household that you would expect from a religious family: full of chocolate eggs and fake plastic grass. My dad, being somewhat health conscious, insisted that we have something that at least pretends to be healthy mixed in with our sugar. Sitting among the jelly beans and peeps would be dried apricots, raisins, and banana chips.

The healthy stuff was never rejected. It never seemed out of place to me. It was always a part of Easter, so its absence stood out more than anything. The dried fruits were devoured at the same rate as the candy, but what we looked forward to was the banana chips. 

Then one year they weren't there. The teasing was legendary. The pretend moping was over the top. Theatrics prevailed. The absence of a dehydrated Cavendish could have won us a Tony that day.

I type this out with a package of banana chips on my desk, regretting nothing.