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My poor friend…

A few years back when my husband was still travelling he came home from a trip to Texas with a box of chocolates.

Consisting of chocolate covered nuts and caramel, they were delicious.

They’re “armadillo droppings,” he told me.

“Armadillo droppings, are you serious?”

Yes, he was serious.

That night, I took some to work.

Everyone loved them.

I told them what they were called and everyone seemed to have a good giggle.

That’s when my friend told me that she’s heading out to Texas on holidays in a few weeks.

“Where did he buy them?” She asked.

“I don’t know,” I told her.

“You’ll just have to ask around…”

And we left it at that.

Well, when she returned from holidays, she was not happy with me at all.

I asked her what was wrong.

She explained how she and her husband were intent on finding the chocolates.

Then she told me how they drove through the entire state of Texas asking all the nice people behind candy counters if they had any…

Armadillo Droppings.

She swore to me that no one had ever heard of them. Then she told me all about the strange looks she got in return.

I’m afraid that she thinks I pulled a fast one on her, and now she doesn’t really trust me anymore.

She is now retired and I don’t see her anymore.

And so dear friend, and you know who you are, if you ever read this, please accept my apologies for any embarrassment I might have caused you.

And for the record, it was no joke.

So, please give me a call and we’ll do coffee.

I’ll even throw in some Horny Toads!

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