Fudge Story.
My Dad made fudge for family and friends at Christmas every year of my life. There are a lot of wonderful childhood memories that surround the fudge making. My brother and I would always jostle for position to scrape the pan... who gets to scrape the spoon... who gets to scrape the marshmallow cream jar, etc. Everybody we loved got fudge and everybody loved the fudge.
Well, now that he's gone I realized that there would be a big void in our Christmas celebrations without that fudge. So I decided to take on the mantle and make it.
One pan of fudge went to a couple I work with. They live just down the road and have been very good to me this last year. So I deliver the fudge and tell the story of our Family Fudge Tradition. They thank me and I feel all warm and fuzy inside.
That was last Sunday.
The following Friday I find myself in our organization's other building for a meeting. I had to run down to the break room to staple a couple of papers and lo' and behold guess what's sitting on the counter for everyone to nibble on? My pan of fudge! They GAVE IT AWAY at work. And they put it in the building where they knew I probably wouldn't see it ('cuz I'm rarely over there).
It really hurt my feelings.
They're not getting fudge next year.
Maybe a fuitcake.
Definitely; the 4 lb. doorstop kind. ;o)
I dunno...I wonder if they did it out of spite. I mean...if I didn't have family locally, I probably WOULD put fudge out to be shared, just because even though I love it, it'd be more than enough for one person.
But the other building thing is a bit odd, I guess!
Fruitcake, huh? You're evil...I like that about ya...
That's cruel! :)