The Truf about Trufa.

The first weekend of October, I was home visiting for Jon's birfday. RJ had to go to the airport to drop off Joe and then pick up Margaret and Phil who were returning from their Mediterranean cruise. I decided to tag along to keep RJ company since he would be hanging out at the airport for a spell.

We were chatting in the cell phone lot when he got the call that they arrived. We drove to the terminal, picked up Margaret and Phil, and then off we were to take them back home.

On the way, Margaret gives me this key chain she got from London, which was pretty cool. Then she takes out 2 huge candy bars, one for me and one for RJ. I see the candy bar on top is truffle with almond bits. It didn't explicitly say it since it was written in a different language, but having experience with working in multiple languages and some linguistics, coupled with the illustrations, I gathered that "trufa" was truffle.

I immediately revert back to childhood and decide that I wanted that kind, not knowing what the other one was, and I knew it was going to be easy to convince RJ that he didn't want that kind. Plus, the other candy bar was broken in half. I didn't want a broken candy bar! I know, highly illogical considering it was going to be consumed anyway. I just remember that as a child, everything had to be perfect. I didn't want a lollipop with a jacked-up wrapper. I wanted one that was visually perfect.

So, since I had already reverted to childhood and decided to forgo the broken candy bar, I was almost set to take the trufa candy bar for the win. That is, until I saw that the broken candy bar was hazelnut. All bets were off now, hazelnut trumps truffle!

While we were in the Target parking lot, I tell RJ that I'll take the hazelnut. It's a win-win situation, right? Nope, not a chance. Are things ever that easy with RJ?

He puts up a huge stink. (Side note, I'm laughing to the point of tears as I type this out in my cube.) He starts going off about what the hell trufa is and how the pictures don't tell him jack. I was dying with laughter at this point. He's fighting for the hazelnut. I tell him no, I know he'll like the truffle better. "Truffle?! How do you know that's what it is?! I don't know what 'trufa' is, how do you know that's what it is?!" Those weren't his exact words, but that was the gist of his rants.

Through my laughter and tears, I show him the illustrations. The illustration of the almond was clear and obvious. The illustration of the truffle wasn't as obvious. If you illustrated the following photo, that was the graphic that appeared on the candy bar.



We arrive back home and he begrudgingly acquiesced to my preference, and we settle it by sampling them in his room. He reluctantly agreed with me, that he does indeed prefer the truffle. Plus, he had been going on about how almond was a superior nut earlier that day.

At this point, he had another rant about why I got the key chain versus him. Since I didn't do anything except went along for the ride, and he's the one who picked them up.

So at this point, you would think the story is done. I thought it was until he brought it back up three weeks later. Among the other siblings. Made it look like I was trying to dupe him into taking the crappy trufa candy bar. (Side note: It's European chocolate. Are Europeans even capable of making crappy chocolate? I don't think so.) It's just hilariously ironic, because I had been planning to dupe him into taking the broken candy bar in the first place. He kept bringing up the story about trufa and how was he supposed to know what it was, blah blah blah, receiving boisterous laughter as the reaction. This is going to be a recurring joke, I'm sure.