Last week I popped into the local post shop, which happens to be inside a chemist that is known not only for its stunning array of seasonal allergy remedies, but also carries a wide selection of gifts and candles and homeware-type baubley things. I was standing at the till, preparing myself for a mild heart attack when I heard the answer to “How much does it cost to post a letter nowadays?” when I spied something I needed to buy, right then and there: Fizzy prosecco gummies.
They were displayed oh-so-charmingly on a shabby chic cake stand (also for sale), appealing in their pink wrappers, and I gravitated toward them like a moth to a flame. “I need these,” I said to the staff member behind the till. “Which ones?” she replied. Yes, there were not only fizzy prosecco gummies, there were also classic prosecco gummies, and sparkling rosé gummies! Who could resist sugar-coated, wine-flavoured gummies? Not I. I bought all three varieties and forgot about the postage stamps.
I got home and opened the first bag, telling myself I’d have a few and then save the rest for later. You know where this is going, don’t you? Yeah, that first bag was gone in an evening. By the end of the week, all three bags were history. Good thing they were only 100g each or I’d be in bigger trouble. I also realised they’re non-alcoholic, so rationalised I was really making a healthier choice than drinking 100ml of actual prosecco or rosé. Did I mention they’re fat-free, gluten-free, and have natural flavours and colours? Yep, practically a health food.
So the weekend rolled around and I realised I still needed those postage stamps, so I went back into the postshop-slash-chemist-slash-gummy dealer and got into the queue. I tried not to look around to see if there were still gummies for sale. I really tried. But when I got to the till, well, there they were – considerably depleted in stock, but still available, right in front of my face.
“I need these,” I said to the staff member, “AND some postage stamps, please.”
“Oh, these gummies are just lovely,” she said, ringing me up. “They make such wonderful gifts, don’t they?”
“I AM NOT SHARING THESE WITH ANYONE!” I thought loudly in her direction. Out loud I replied, “Yes, gifts. Yes. That’s exactly why I’m buying them. For gifts.”
Gifts for myself, that is.
I’m eating the last gummy now, as I type this. Will I go back tomorrow and buy up the rest of the stock? Quite possibly. They would make excellent gifts, after all.