The Candyman Can

A friend of mine from school brought me 5 gigantic bags of candy. I'm really bad with guessing numbers, but I'm guessing there are a TRILLION pieces of candy in these bags.

I set them on the washer so I could close the doors and not see the candy and eat it all, and then I turned the washer on to do a load. One of the bags vibrated open, spilling candy in a nice happy design on top of the washer before vibrating OFF the washer and falling down the side of the washing machine, leaving candy TRAPPED and STRANDED in that skinny nowhere between washer and wall.

Of course I panicked. I removed the spilled design candy, the survivors, if you will, from the top of the washer along with the other bags to a safer location.

Then I tried to move the washer even though I didn't try too hard cause I didn't want water pipes to come loose and start spraying everywhere. The washer wouldn't budge. Oh my god, I thought. There's a half a bag of candy TRAPPED down there. I could hear their delicious chocolatey screams.

I reached as far down as I could and pulled the half-dumped out candy bag up as far as I could toward the top of the washer. There was this rack in the way of getting it all the way to the top. I know how the hikers on Everest feel at this point. If I can ONLY GET IT TO THE TOP. I start pulling pieces of candy out, airlifting them to the safety of the washer top. The bag is getting skinnier. Ooh, look, physics - reduce the mass of the bag so all candy can be free. (It's an unknown physics law. The eqaution is something like Fat Girl + Wants More Candy = You're a Disgusting Pig.)

The bag empties enough and I am able to pull the dwindled bag to safety.

But alas, I see the remaining five pieces stranded at the bottom, on the floor in the crack, nestled amongst dryer lint dust. Plaintively. They are looking at me. My heart swells. No candy left behind. I need a broom, I think, panicked. I see a back scratcher on my desk. Perfect arm extension for candy in crack rescue.

It's 9 a.m. on a Friday, I'm huddled by the side of the washer, sticking in my back scratcher and thinking, "I'm doing this for my stepmom." She, yes, she would do this. What candy would you leave behind? These were five good candies. Almond Joy, Tootsie Pop, Snickers, for GOD'S SAKE. Dots. Butterfinger.

I scrape them out one by one. Assisting them out of the rubble of the forgotten crevice. You are all worth it, I dust them off. Even as I return them to Mound of Candy mountain, where they mingle in silent glory with their friends, every candy is worth it.