One small fact to know about me is that year round I love peppermint. Really mints of any kind are my go to, so this time of year is extremely wonderful for me. Peppermints can be found anywhere: in coffee, in ice cream, and in cane form. It’s truly a beautiful time for my stomach, because I can indulge in one of my favorite treats in so many different ways that it should probably be considered illegal. No one look into that though, I’d much rather there be no prohibition placed upon peppermints.
Perhaps that little intro made you realize what was coming in, but it is more than likely you’re still left in the dark. My fault really, my leave of absence occurred shortly after I started Nostalgia Sunday. I really can’t blame you for forgetting.
A quick refresher pertaining to Nostalgia Sunday’s would have to be stating that this is the day I reminisce on feelings or objects that bring me back in time. For instance, peppermints.
Continue on if you’d like to read about my strong feelings for a piece of candy, move along if you think it’s too weird.
The smell of peppermint lingers in the air after just one lick. It seems to cling to your person, making you crave more of the succulent treat. The red and white blend catches your attention beautifully, and holds it without even trying.
I can remember it clearly; the sweet taste as it coats my tongue and the stickiness the red and white candy leaves behind on young fingertips. They come in around holidays, with their delicate arcs and graceful curves. Candy canes mean joy with friends and family. Candy canes crafty a point of happiness.
There was always something so simple about holding the thin treat in my hands while I crafted the end into a sharpened point as the sugary goodness dissolved beneath my taste buds. Time seemed to slow, coming to a halt as I sat by the tree – decorated in brightly colored ornaments and shining lights – as I devoured the delicacy.
Cleanup, of course, was always the worst. My mom would take a wet clothe to my hands and face, making sure none of the residue was left behind. The dishtowel always felt so coarse against my skin, rough and grating as it raked over and over trying to rid my flesh of the peppermint scented sugar. Yet, even knowing that I would be forced to endure the same thing over and over again, I always wanted to have another candy cane.
The holiday season comes every year without fail, and with it brings the memories of a stained tongue and minty breath.