You know how it is. It's Friday night, the mood is right, and you're all...suggestible. It's the only excuse I can come up with for why this looked good:
It was the name. Aggressive, yet playful - "Eat me, I'm a Sponch!" The Pirate and I wandered around the store for the rest of the shopping trip just saying "Sponch!" to each other (yes, you could hear the exclamation points), and I thought it would be hilarious to actually try it. Strike that. I thought it would be hilarious to make my family try it, because there's no way I'd ever put that in MY mouth.
I opened the packet and the room immediately filled with a coconut funk that said right there that the entire thing would end badly. This was NOT the comparitively safe "run electricity through a condiment" kind of experiment. This was putting my family's life and health on the line in the service of knowledge seeking.
Each "cookie" was a sort of crumbly graham-crackery base with four little plops of marshmallowy stuff on top surrounding a dollop of "artificially flavored strawberry jelly" and then sprinkled with coconut. No actual fruits were harmed in the making of this cookie - it's all petroleum products and wood pulp.
But they are blissfully unaware of their own peril. The Pirate said "They look like little Snowballs, and I used to eat those all the time." And he's still alive, so that's saying something. They linked their arms and prepared for that first delicious bite.
I don't know what she was expecting, but it wasn't this. I think her cookie might have actually contained a dead gerbil.
And yeah, the Pirate is pretty much scarred for life. Gone are the lovely Snowball memories, gone the affection for all things coconut-flavored, gone the liver...The surprising thing was that Peaches not only went on to finish hers, but she finished the Pirate's as well! She would have eaten the whole packet had I not made her put them away.
In all, a complete success!