One
day, to my dismay, Pom Poms suddenly disappeared from the stores’ shelves,
never to be seen again. Whenever I went to the movies after that, I substituted
Sugar Babies for Pom Poms. Their caramel was good, but they didn’t have any
milk chocolate, which I missed.
Well,
a few weeks ago, I was in the candy aisle at Dollar Tree and happened to notice
what looked like the old familiar Pom Pom boxes. Certain my eyes were playing
tricks on me, I grabbed a box and examined it. The picture on the front looked
the same, as did the description, “soft milk caramels in pure chocolate.” The
only problem was they weren’t called Pom Poms. They were called Junior
Caramels. Curious, I bought a box.
I
barely made it back out to my car before I tore open the box and stuffed two of
the caramels into my mouth. The old familiar Pom-Pom flavor flooded my senses
and instantly transported me back to cavity-inducing heaven. I felt as if I
were 12 again and back at the Rex Theatre in Manchester, watching the horror
movie, “Mr. Sardonicus” (which gave me nightmares for a year), and stuffing my
face with Pom Poms. They tasted even
better than I’d remembered – even creamier, which was important, considering
that my mouth had managed to gain an assortment of dental hardware over the years.
I
rushed back into the store and bought five more boxes, just in case the Junior
Caramels were a limited edition or a trial run, and soon would vanish from the
shelves for another 40 or 50 years.
My
plan was to ration them, to treat myself to two or three caramels a day as a
special reward and make them last for as long as humanly possible.
I
was home only five minutes before I tipped back my head and poured half a box
of the caramels into my mouth. I looked
like a chipmunk. And at that precise
moment, the phone rang. I didn’t care if it was Publisher’s Clearing House
telling me I’d just won a million dollars, I wasn’t about to take the caramels
out of my mouth so I could talk.
Eating
the candy again after so many years, triggered a flashback of a past
Valentine’s Day back when I was only about 10.
At that time, a kid named John, who had a crush on me, knew of my
fondness (a.k.a. addiction) for Pom Poms. He told me he had bought me some for
Valentine’s Day and would drop by my house after school to give them to me.
The
minute the dismissal bell rang, I rushed home and eagerly awaited his
arrival…solely for the Pom Poms. Personally, I didn’t like John all that much.
He
showed up at about 4:30 and, to my bewilderment, was carrying a giant
heart-shaped box – the kind Valentine chocolates come in.
Smiling
proudly, John handed the box to me. I opened it, and inside were about 30 Pom
Poms, rolling around and looking completely lost in the big box.
“I
was going to bring you the Pom Poms in their original boxes,” he said, “but
then I was passing by the trash barrels out in the alley and saw this cool
heart-shaped box someone had thrown out, so I decided the Pom-Poms would look
more Valentine-y if I poured them into it!”
I
thought that was a pretty romantic idea – which, I also thought, would have
been even more romantic if he’d have bought me enough Pom Poms to actually fill
the box. I reached for one of the
delectable little caramels, my mouth watering at the mere thought of it. Before
the candy even reached my lips, however, my mother swooped in like a vulture
and grabbed the box away from me.
“You
can’t eat those!” she snapped. “Didn’t you hear him say he found the box in the
trash? How do you know what was in that
box before he put the Pom Poms into it?
It’s disgusting! I thought you had better sense than that!”
I
wouldn’t have cared if the Pom Poms had been covered with pocket lint and ants
at that point, I just wanted to eat them…preferably all at once. My mother, however, seemed determined to
ruin my Valentine’s Day. She dumped my precious candy into the trash. John and I both looked so appalled, you’d
think we’d just witnessed her strangling my pet hamster.
But
now, here I am, over 50 years later, with a nice little stash of Pom Poms – or
should I say Junior Caramels – in my kitchen cabinet.
Well,
actually it’s not such a little stash. I think I have enough boxes of the candy
in there to last me through an apocalypse.
So if you call me and there is no answer, it’s probably because I have a giant wad of caramels in my mouth.
# # #
FREE E-BOOKS!
Pom Poms were definitely my favorite. But now, at 71, there will be no chewing, melting in my mouth would be preferred, since I pulled a crown out with my first Swedish fish of the day 2 weeks ago.
ReplyDeleteEnjoy!
I feel your pain! I also needed a new crown just last month, and it cost more than new kitchen appliances (which I desperately need!). I now have switched to Hershey's kisses!
Delete