Everyone’s jonesing for that hit of the S’mores. It’s like a town full of Wimpys, promising, “I will gladly pay you Tuesday for a Snickerdoodle today.”
I want to give lectures about what I was forced to call meals as a child and how we don’t get to choose what we want to eat. But, alas, I’m tired. So I plop the Eggos in the toaster and everyone enjoys their morning.