49 thoughts on “Jelly Beans

  1. Awww :3

    I love how you do this cutting-and-pasting stuff. They’re lovely! I love your stories too! Keep updating ;D

    1. I am really in awe of your talent! By the way…. I have been eagerly waiting all week to read your new post! I can’t wait to read your book!

  2. That’s so funny! I’m the middle sister too but i stole my sisters candies from their baskets. LOL It’s good to find other middle sister too.

    1. I really miss the swiping. Now I’m in charge my daughter’s Easter basket and she has nothing worth swiping. I’ll have to remember this next year and get her lots of good stuff. :)

      1. :) I am writing a full-length, fully illustrated graphic novel (of sorts). It’s a process! Once I get the manuscript fully approved by rounds of editors, I’ll have to slow down the blog posts so I can start illustrating the book full time. Until then, though, more blog posts are coming. Maybe, eventually, hopefully I’ll get paid for something… I’ll keep dreaming :)

      1. I learned while home this holiday that all the siblings on dad’s side LOVE black jelly beans. They were hoarding them and stealing them all night, and these are grown adults and communal candy bowls! :)

  3. Why didn’t your parents–okay, sorry, the “Easter Bunny”–ever think to give each of you an individually sealed bag of jelly beans? Failing that, they could have bought a big bag of jelly beans in bulk, and then portioned them out into five equal bags, tied shut with curled ribbon or whatever, to prevent late-night theft, and also to keep the beans nice, so they wouldn’t get all dried out and gross, and mixed in with the plastic Easter grass.

    1. I agree. That’s why I like Jelly Belly jelly beans much better than normal ones. You still get black, but not nearly as many, and the purple ones actually do taste like grape, berries, and other “acceptable” purple flavours.

  4. You’d think the Easter Bunny would have wised up, and given each child an individual, factory-sealed bag of jelly beans after the first time that happened, but for some reason, the mythical gift-bearers of childhood seem to be slow learners. Case in point: One Christmas, like most Christmases of my youth, my brother and I received Peanutty Putty in our stockings (just like Silly Putty, only it comes in a plastic peanut with a funny face, and smells faintly of peanuts). A few days later, my brother proceeded to mash putty into my fuzzy polar-bear blanket, to the point that it took my mom some serious elbow grease, and a lot of nail polish remover, to get it out. The following Christmas, Santa Claus appeared to have no recollection of this incident, because my brother and I got Silly Putty in our stockings AGAIN.

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