Pot Brownies!

"What do you want for dinner?"

It was an innocent question, and one that most people probably don't even give a second thought.  But in the Talley house, this question can linger in the air forever.

Today was different, though.  Today, we were going to be daring.  To try something new.

Today, we were going to get a Pot Brownie.

Freebirds Burritos had recently opened a store in Waco, and we still hadn't tried it.  I'd had Freebirds before, but Megan hadn't, so we clasped our hands together, Laverne and Shirley style, and drove into the mists of the unknown.

Freebirds is loud.  I mean, metaphorically and literally.  They have a motorcycle on the ceiling, after all.

We ordered our burritos--just regular Freebirds for us, as we took one look at the Super Monster and nearly passed out--and made our way to the end of the line.

That's where they were.

The pot brownies.

Pot.

Brownies.

Brownies, in Pot form.

That's right, silly.  Not brownies made with Pot.  That would be illegal and therefore wouldn't be a subject of a blog post.

These things, gifts from God above:

Groovy, Man, Groovy

Just look at it.  The tie-dyed wrapper a siren call, drawing your eyes deeper and deeper into the craziness.  Make me Happy.  Is it a statement, or a command? Do the brownies want us to make them happy by consuming them, or do they make us happy when we eat them?

We carefully peeled back the cellophane wrapper, wary of the explosion of tasty gooeyness that lay within.  Too much at once and the whole thing could erupt in our faces, a chocolate catastrophe.  

Danger. In Chocolate.

We stared at the exposed pot brownie.  It was calling to us now.  

"Are you ready?" Megan asked.

"Let's eat it."

She carefully plucked a piece off of the pot brownie and handed it to me, then did the same for herself.

"Ok, on three," I said.

I counted slowly.  "One.  Two.  Three."

We both put the brownie in our mouths at the same time.

It was like the heavens had been opened, and chocolate was streaming down instead of the heavenly light.  Our taste buds soared into regions previously unknown. 

"It's pretty good," I said.

Megan nodded. "Yeah, really good.  We should just come here and get the brownies sometimes."

"We should."

As for the burritos?  

Well, we like Chipotle better.