If you don’t know what Fruchocs are then, my friend, I gnash my teeth and tear at my clothes with grief for your woeful life experience.
Imagine you have an apricot and you dehydrate it. Then you take a miniscule sample of your dried up apricot and add other unknown substances to it (possibly laxatives). You then dip it in brown matter that is designed to resemble chocolate. Voilà. You have a Fruchoc.
I may or may not be known for my love of Fruchocs.
When I was 12 my Dad took me to the movies. I was so excited, we were going to see the Muppet movie. I loved watching the Muppets with my Dad because he laughed... loudly.
We daringly decided it was worth putting second mortgage on my parents’ house to purchase something from the “Candy Bar” (helloooo this is not America…).
My excitement levels were reaching epic proportions… a movie AND “candy”. We discussed what we could purchase and the vote was unanimous… we shall go forth and order FRUCHOCS. My Dad leaned down and whispered into my ear “they are my favourite”.
DING. Synapses connected in my brain. These are my Dad’s favourite, they shall now and forever more be my favourite.
I placed my hand in his gigantic hand, my Dad, my hero, a huge influencer in my life, not only leading me in my love of Fruchocs but in my faith, and the faith of many others.
Such a precious treasured memory. Thanks Dad.
Little did I know, as I devoured Fruchocs and lol’d with my Dad that I was about to encounter another enormously influential character in my life… Miss Piggy.
What a woman/pig.
If you don’t know who Miss Piggy is then, let’s face it, your life is seriously troubling.
Give me a problem, I can solve things… Miss Piggy style.
No problem is too big… for example, lets look at a biggie right here... the crucifixion (I told you, no problem is too big).
John 19: 18 (NIV)
There they crucified him, and with him two others—one on each side and Jesus in the middle.
I’ve read the account of Christ’s crucifixion a few times. Sometimes I think, how could they do that??... How could they be so barbaric, how could they kill Jesus?!
Like so many moments in history, let’s face it, if I was there it would have turned out rosy. I would have thumped everyone with my hand bag Miss Piggy style, HIIYAHH!, stormed onto the hill and demanded the release of Jesus.
Well… not like the time when I couldn’t even muster the courage to mention his name because of peer pressure… and not like the time I disobeyed even though I knew I was heading down a path of destruction…
Or maybe it was my sin that took him there, and his love and obedience that held him there, no handbag bashing required.
*Storms off in a huff…*
Hmmm maybe not the best influence…
Anyway… I do love Fruchocs, and my Dad… any sometimes still Miss Piggy…