When I was growing up, my dad traveled for work. A lot. In fact, he was gone so much that at one point he actually had an apartment in California, and only came home to Utah on an occasional weekend. I loved when my daddy came home. Why? Not all the sentimental reasons that a little girl should, but because every time he came home he had a package of these for me waiting in his pocket.
I always swore that the M&Ms tasted like the location they came from. How I loved the tropical Hawaiian M&Ms, which tasted much different from the boring Utah M&Ms. It wasn’t until years later, that I learned my dad actually bought the M&Ms from the gift shop in the Salt Lake Airport. I had been eating Utah M&Ms all along--- the different flavors I adamantly claimed I was tasting, really didn’t exist.
Well, this past month my dad has been on a couple more business trips, and each time he’s come home, he’s returned with M&Ms in hand. Last night, as I was munching on some Boston M&Ms I realized that I wasn’t wrong, these ‘business trip’ M&Ms really did have a different flavor. They tasted like love. They were purchased by a busy man, to show that he had missed his children. As I realized this tasty treat was a reflection of my dad’s love, they became even tastier. Now I understand why I always looked forward to receiving my package of M&Ms. They were a simple reminder that I was loved, and love really does make everything even better.