Raisin Hell

I’m suddenly addicted to raisin toast. I’ve always liked it, just haven’t eaten any for a while. Boobs, Mrs. Loo & Mrs. Muffin & I usually go out for breakfast on the weekend and for whatever reason I changed from my usual rye toast to raisin. It’s buttery, crispy, cinammony and sweet…(I had 3 pieces for lunch yesterday, limited myself to 2 today).

I have no idea why but raisin bread is the only way I’ll tolerate them in baked goods. They have no business being in cookies, butter tarts, covered in chocolate, nor will I eat them out of a little red box.

This picture illustrates exactly how I feel:

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You can actually hear him hiss the word: “Raisins”.

I do anyway.

I’ve had this happen to me before. It is SUCH a major letdown. I bought 2 cookies at a fancy bake shop (all their other stuff I love) and was pissed that I’d mistaken those dark bits behind the display case for chocolate. You’re all excited about eating a chocolate chip cookie but then you’re immediately angry and feel duped.

I’m going to go hug my loaf of raisin bread and tell it that I love it.

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