I don’t usually eat while typing, but today I made an exception.
Beside my computer is a 300-calorie, hockey-puck-shaped hunk of goodness known as a MoonPie.
I’m brushing crumbs off my keyboard with the back of my hand as I type, while gnawing on a double-stacked chocolate confection. Then, every few seconds, I blow on the laptop in case any micro-crumbs have fallen between the cracks.
Gross, right?
For us baby boomers, especially those of us who consider ourselves hillbillies, MoonPies are a lifelong comfort food. The cliche “RC Cola and a MoonPie” is an East Tennessee nosh.