I think the trouble is that other people can't taste the memories I have. Wrapped up in a single Yummy Bar is the smell of my Grandma's laundry room. The sound of my Uncle Butch's laugh. The excitement of the season's "laundry" arriving via mail for us to enjoy in Utah. The energy of a family game night. The loneliness in Lisa's voice when she made them on her own for the first time. The joyful chatter when Yummy Bars make their annual reappearance on the table.
I'm so glad that when I asked the kids what traditions were a must, Yummy Bars made their list.
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