Later that night, Husband ask for dessert. I send him down to the chest freezer for the sandwiches, silently hoping he won't look too far and find his birthday present. If he did, he says nothing. He emerges from the basement, cookie in hand, and complains to me that he should have known how small they would be, the box being so light.
Later on, I bring up my own cookie sandwich. He's right. It is small. But it's actually refreshing -- in a world of supersizing, it's nice to see that Breyer's and Mrs. Fields know that this works well as a "good things come in small packages" kind of treat. If it were bigger, I'm sure I would have finished it. But truth be told, I was really truly satisfied with the three-ounce sandwich one serving had to offer.
The only thing that struck me as strange was the number of servings per container: five. Yeah, that's right. Five. I have never gotten anything in an odd number. I have gotten four, or six, or eight, but never five. Five doesn't fit neatly in a box. Why five? It does make me think of growing up in a family of five -- six ice cream treats? Who got the last one? Four cupcakes? How do you divide that? But then again, five causes those same problems for the family of four or the family of six.
Overall, I was happy with my purchase. Husband, if you have complaints, don't eat 'em! I'll gladly eat your remaining one and a half sandwiches!
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