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So, I finally found butterscotch pudding in the grocery store. Butterscotch pudding that you make yourself, that is. It was a bit of a challenge. So, I snatched up a box, wondering at its amazing lack of weight and smaller size than the other flavours we had previously been enjoying and brought that baby home. Butterscotch, at long last, was in the house.

Then I noticed the dreaded words that makes every pudding junkie’s heart sink, “Fat Free” and “Made with Aspartame”. Crap. But it’s butterscotch and its pudding. It must be consumed. So I raged against the machine. I got out my juice jug, poured in the light powder and added my two cups of milk, sealed the lid and shook it for two minutes. How exactly did I rage? I made that bad boy pudding with homo milk (3.25% milk fat). Fat free that you pudding desecrating bastards!

In other news, my husband found the exact centre of the Internet, a place my dad once discovered ages ago when there were approximately six websites in total. Anyway, if you fear not traveling afar, here it is (pack light young grasshopper).

Oh, and in case you are like most curious ten-year-olds in their quest for answers regarding the most intriguing questions regarding poop, then this one is for you.

Tags: life //