Black jellybeans. Never, ever black jellybeans.
I had someone ask me about my favorite Easter candy a couple of days ago, and instead of trying to figure out which is my favorite, because that might be an impossible task, I told them which Easter candy I absolutely abhor--
Black jellybeans.
Unlike, say, the tale I've mentioned several times about how bananas (literally) make me throw up, I've never ever liked black jellybeans. And I'll be the first to admit it's the taste of them. While I like anise in cookies and LOVE the taste of anise in that weird German Fennel-Anise-Caraway Seed tea I drink, the taste of it in black jellybeans (and its weird cousin, black licorice) just turns my stomach. Unlike bananas, I don't know why it turns my stomach. It just does. And it's not even because I force-fed myself so many black jellybeans that I made myself sick, like I did with bananas when I was two or three. I don't think I could ever eat that many black jellybeans, because I just don't like the taste.
If that makes me a freak, so be it, because I know there are a LOT of people who love black jellybeans. I know of people who'll buy a bag of nothing BUT black jellybeans and eat them one after the other. But not me. Any other color of jellybean is fine; heck, I even like those bubble-gum flavored Jelly Bellys that make some people wretch.
But black jellybeans? Nope. I'll leave those for you.
So if you happen to see me being offered jellybeans this weekend (not that you would, but never say never), you can rest assured that I'll happy munch down on the red ones, the green ones, the yellow ones, the blue ones, and even the bubble gum ones. But the black ones?
I think I'll pass.
On that note, I have to take Loraine's car in for its yearly oil change. We put almost 1,100 miles on it since last March. It's time, right?
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