Lunchables

I used to envy the kids in my school who brought Lunchables to lunch.

 

In case you don’t know what Lunchables are, here’s a nice picture:

 

 

They’re pre-made, fake lunches that they sell cheap at stores like Shop Rite or Target (our local Target has a mini-grocery store inside of it). It’s basically the epitome of unhealthy lunching, and when you’re young, unhealthy=awesome.

I envied my friends and the other kids who would bring Lunchables to lunch. It was just so—cool! That you could bring your lunch in that pre-made, bought, cardboard box, and show the entire world that you have a piece of candy for an aftersnack. Oh, how I envied them. It was first or second grade.

I remember asking my mom if she could buy it for me, whenever we passed that aisle at the market. She’d shoo it away like it was some inferior piece of artificial food. (Which it was, but at the time, I was not aware of it. It was a piece of unattainable heaven to me.)

 

 

Now that I’m older, you know, at least five years older, I look back and I think about those kids who brought Lunchables to the lunch tables and had to eat them every day (or at least, nearly every day) for lunch. And I realize how sad it is.

Not sad as in the sarcastic, mean sort of ‘sad.’ I mean sad in the original way. Sad as in, it makes me teary. (Fine. Not teary. But you know what I mean. That kind of sad.)

 

To have your mother buy lunch for you—not just any lunch, but the cheap sort, I realize, wasn’t exactly the ‘unattainable heaven’ I once thought it was. I’m not trying to offend anybody with Lunchables—they’re still cool and everything, but it kind of signifies that you either can’t afford a healthy lunch every day (because, unfortunately, let’s face it—it’s not exactly recommended by the United States Department of Nutrition, you know) or that your mother doesn’t have the time/attention to make your lunch for you. I’m talking about first graders. Second graders.

At the time, I idolized those kids, having no idea what it really meant to bring a Lunchable to lunch and seeing your friends bring out foil-wrapped, ham and turkey sandwich with the homemade applesauce. I wasn’t living in the richest town when I saw my friends and peers (some of them) with Lunchables. And thinking back on it, it kind of signifies a lot of things in life. Some things we take for granted, some things we think too good of, and some things we don’t think of at all. Sometimes, we really do need to sit back and appreciate the things we have. Like parents who care for you. Or a somewhat stable financial position.

And this is regardless of the Lunchables thing. It might sound cliché (in fact, it does, I admit it), but we need a time to give thanks other than Thanksgiving. Because Thanksgiving is, like, Costco’s party day or something. Thanksgiving where we don’t scramble and stress and complain about getting turkeys and making millions of dollars worth of food that some kids at the other side of the world are dying because of the lack of it. I’m talking about a sort of thanksgiving when we sit down, we eat a normal dinner, and then we think about why we’re here, how blessed we are to be here in the first place (and not the other sperm of your father or a different egg of your mother—that’s some intense competition, you know. We’re the chosen ones), and just let it all sink in. The food in front of you. Bam. Gone.

 

The roof above you.

Bam. Gone.

 

The nice, warm, thick clothes you have.

Bam. Gone. (Except for rags. Let’s keep you clothed.)

 

Your smiling parents. (or ranting. But either way they love you deep inside.)

Bam. Gone. (Or on drugs or something.)

 

Your loving brother who pulls your hair out.

Bam. Gone.

 

The nice weather.

Bam. Gone.

 

There you are, sitting in a hot, dry, arid place with no food, no family, and a few pieces of cloth as garments. There are people like that still living on the same Earth that we’re standing on, stomping on, complaining about the slowness of our computers or the suckiness of our school. And while it might be too much to ask everybody to stop (because, let’s face it, I complain, too), we should at least acknowledge and appreciate the things that are always there for us.

 

Like that street light that stays red and won’t turn green on that street in our town.

 

Because there are always people who are worse off than us. (The fact that you’re reading this means that you have a computer, so this is probably mostly true.)

And if not, then think about the other sperm cell that could have fertilized your mother’s egg. Think about how close that was. You almost died before you were born.

(Sorry I was studying Biology.)

(Sorry not sorry.)

 

So yeah. Through that reminiscent memory of Lunchables, I have just given you a rant, a lecture, about thankfulness.

Chew on that.

Good Times

Hey I just noticed that if you take out the ‘s’ then it becomes the song “Good Time” by Owl City and C. R. Jespen.

Anyhow, that’s not the point. Just yesterday, my cousins left America to go back to (insert country here). Let’s call it ‘X.’

They were here for three weeks, and it was the most fun three weeks of the summer. They are awesome people with funny personality and I really do miss them. I wonder why our family had to move to America and not stay in X. I wonder why it’s me whose family was in America, in a foreign land, rather than someone else. All of my other cousins and aunts and uncles (nine aunts) live in X. It kind of makes you feel lonely and isolated, don’t you think?

I mean, of course, being in America is really fun, and it has its advantages and stuff, especially if you want to succeed in life, blah blah. And yes, I have lots of friends and good memories here.

But most of my family is halfway across the world, in X. (Except for my aunt, who is a nun, and she lives in San Francisco, but she moves a lot, so I can’t really pinpoint the exact distance I live from my closest-living relative.) And most definitely, all of my cousins are in X. To what I hear, they see each other so often, (as my cousin Steve teases, “I’ve seen them so much, I’m almost sick of them~ XP”) and they can always go to their house within thirty to forty minutes.

Sometimes I wish my cousins, my first cousins, would move to America. (By first cousins I mean the children of my mom’s older sister. She has six sisters, so… yeah.)

It’s so much fun being with your family, even your cousins, because for some reason, whether it’s the second time meeting them or the first, you feel closer to them than you feel with friends at school, who you meet nearly every day. You feel like you’ve met those cousins yesterday, and the day before that, and that this isn’t a meeting once a year.

At least, that’s how I feel.

Looking around my house, I can remember just like yesterday when I was doing Algebra II problems, looking at the clock every five seconds, (meaning, technically, with the whole distraction, one could say I was looking at Algebra II problems), anxiously wondering what my cousins would say when they came to our house for the first time and took a look at America. I remember just like yesterday when they barged into the house, full with smiles and excitement, with their rolly bags and jackets, coming into the house to make sure they made lots of noise and memories. When they came into my room, and I still couldn’t believe they were inside my house, and that they were sitting on my bed, and asking me where the bathroom was, and that America’s so big, and why we can’t walk by ourselves to the park, and why we couldn’t go somewhere far by ourselves…

Just like yesterday when my cousins were sulking around the house, saying that the first day was going by way too slow, how is three weeks going to go by, and them unpacking the thousands of food from X, with yummy X crackers and candy as well as a pencil set for me. Just like yesterday when I felt kind of awkward with them.

And it was just like yesterday that I was freaking out that there was three days left, and H would glare at me (jokingly) and Andrew would flick my head and say “Let’s play a game” just like yesterday we were running in the grass trying to catch the frisbee in Frisbee Football, a game Alex played at his school, and was really fun—Just like yesterday I was telling them a fun card game and how we played it until two in the morning…

Just like yesterday.

And just like tomorrow, the time always comes, when we have to comment on how fast time flies, and how we’ll miss each other, and wave to each other until the other is out of sight, disappearing into the line of people holding their passports to go to another land…

 

And like tomorrow, the day will come when they’ll come again, and we’ll go to X too, and we’ll meet each other at least once a year, I hope. I hope that we won’t have to say that we’ve met our cousins only twice, that we know who they are and what their favorite food is, and what game they play 24/7, and what brand of clothing they like the most.

Looking around the house, they’ve left no trace that they were here, no trace at all, just like they weren’t here, almost. Except for the Nike tag they forgot to throw away, and the game that shows on the screen when I turn on my iPod, and a warmth in our hearts, hope that we’ll see them in just 365 days..

Travelling Troubles

Okay, so, we went to New York City (Central Park, Apple Store, Times Square…), Washington D.C. (You know the places—museums and the White House and the Washington Memorial and whatnot), and Boston (Harvard, MIT…).

Let me tell you what happened on those three trips, and why we have the worst luck possible in picking dates for ‘travelling,’ and why I’m scared to go to the Statue of Liberty in a few days.

New York City

So, when we went to New York, we rode the car (not train) all the way to NYC, and then we walked to Central Park. It was drizzling. Then, we walked for about an hour in Central Park, because my dad said he knew where the lake thingy was, but apparently, between him and his iPhone, something went wrong, and we ended up walking in circles. When that tired us enough, it started raining more. And when I say more, I mean, POURING. RAINING CATS AND DOGS. (Plus we were hungry).

We ran all the way to the edge of Central Park, meanwhile getting soaking wet. Seriously soaking wet. Our hair was like we just stepped out of the shower, and our clothes were sticking to our skin like we decided to jump into the pool with all of our clothes on. Literally.

So we stood under a ledge of a big building (and it wasn’t a ‘big’ ledge, so to say), and waited for the rain to stop, while stuffing KimBap into our mouths.

But thankfully, the day got better after that, because the rain eventually stopped, and we went to the Apple store and Times Square, which was really fun.

 

Washington D. C.

A bit farther than New York’s distance, so we woke up at five and then left at six forty four, forty four minutes off schedule (we had planned to leave at six o clock sharp, but you  know what always happens..).

We hadn’t eaten breakfast, because my mom had made a beautiful breakfast meal and put it in the icebox for us to eat along the way (as in, stop at a small park with those wooden tables and stuff to eat, on the way to Washington). So when we were pretty much in Washington D. C., we stopped at a small park, as scheduled, and happily went to the back of the car to pull the icebox out of the trunk--
that wasn’t there.

We had, in the whole hurry of being forty four minutes late, left (one of) the most important things of the trip—food. Of course, we had rice. And seaweed thingy (kim). But the BANCHAN WAS MISSING. 반찬. So we happily ate rice and kim. (Because rice and kim don’t need to be cold, we had that in a separate bag that we brought.) Good thing we at least brought the rice. .-.

Anyhow, after the fulfilling breakfast, we then arrived at Washington very early, and parked the car and left to walk here and there and have a nice day at Washington D.C. Of course, it was scorching hot that day, and we were already sweating rivers of sweat and sizzling in the heat within an hour.

(Plus, my cousins aren’t the ‘can-endure-lots-of-walking’ type, especially if it’s under a ninety eight degree sun.)

So we walked here and there, noticing how far each memorial was from each other, and looking in envy at people with cold water and ice cream (while we were holding nearly boiling bottled water) (nah it was just really warm). We did stop by once to buy two bottles of Gatorade, but in our hurried fight to drink more of the refreshing drink, we forgot to let our parents have a sip. (Sorry, Mother and Father. ): )

We then went home in the night, and in between the long car ride, we stopped at WaWa’s in Maryland. That was probably the best part of the trip, because that WaWa’s place was really clean and organized and their food was DELICIOUS. (Sandwich). (Maybe it was because we were tired and hungry.) I don’t know, their strawberry smoothie and sandwich was probably the most remember-able part of the trip. OMNOMNOMNOM.

 

Boston

So we left for Boston at around ten or eleven, thinking we wouldn’t spend much time there and stuff. And plus, in the morning, we were busy trying to convince my dad not to go to Boston so we could rest and stuff. So we dragged time quite a bit.

Leaving late means arriving late. And of course, we spent seven hours in the car (lots of traffic…) and arrived at Boston around five or six. Really late.

We went to Harvard, and the place was AWESOME. So was their bookstore—it was like Harvard Coop or something like that? I don’t know, but when we stepped in there for the bathroom, I saw much more than a bathroom there. I wanted to stay there for a while (but we had to leave) and read all of the books (that I wanted to read that were) there.

But because of the time constraint (we can’t leave too late, because that would mean we would get home in the morning), we hurried from Harvard to MIT to the Quincy Market thingy. And it rained a lot (not as much as Central Park, thank goodness), so we were all fighting over three puny umbrellas while trying to pose for pictures.

By the time we were at Quincy Market, it was about nine thirty, and all of the food-giving places were closed. Except for the bars and super expensive restaurants. (Well, not super expensive, but expensive when it comes to paying for seven hungry people).

We had no choice but to go to McDonald’s.

…

Yeah, I know.

And the best part is, when we left the place, we noticed that Chipotle’s was still open, and also another sandwich place (I forget, it was either Seven Eleven, Quick Check, or Subway’s).

Amazing.

We got home at two thirty in the morning and passed out on the floor (or bed, depending on where we slept).

 

And in those three trips, we ate lots of: soda, fast food, chips, Oreos, and other fattening, unhealthy edible items.
I’m worried about our health. D:

 

Well, besides that, it was actually pretty fun! :D I just hope that our trip to the Statue of Liberty won’t have any weather-like constraints and troubles. For once. ^.^

Soaking in Memories

SO… MY COUSINS CAME! Did I already tell you? I don’t remember, and I don’t exactly feel like checking. But anyhow, I have three cousins, whom I shall cleverly nickname Andrew, Steve, and, uh, uh, uh—I forget.

(That’s not their real names, which is obviously why I’m giving you a full name instead of a letter. We ‘named’ them English names just for fun, because the names really do match their personality. But, I forgot what my youngest cousin’s English name is. We’ll just call him H.)

A, S, and H. A is a junior in high school—I mean, in terms of American ways, he’s going to be a senior, but in the country I’m from, it’s not the end of their school year yet, so--

nevermind. He’s a senior in high school. There.

S is the same age as me, freshman.

H is in seventh grade.

They’re all boys.

Which is awesome, because they’re not all dainty and awkward and sit-down-and-study-like, and they’re really fun. A is really good at sports—I mean, we went to the park the other day to play tennis at the court, and you have to keep in mind, my brother and I have gotten lessons for a year. And A never played tennis before. But within three hours, his skills were by far much better than ours. And he’s super nice. Yeah. To me. (Not sure about to his brothers.. xD)

S is really truthful, sometimes too truthful, and he talks a lot. But it’s not like a sassy sort of talk-a-lot, it’s more like, that when you’re talking to him, he talks back and doesn’t exactly not answer. GRAH I don’t know how to explain it. But he’s really nice and fun.

H is really funny, and silly. He plays with my brother a lot, and now, they’re like best friends, hitting each other and fighting one moment and then playing Minecraft together the next. He’s always got a joke or trick up his sleeve, and he, too, talks a lot. In fact, He, my brother, and I share one room to sleep in, and all I hear up until 3:00 in the morning is them fighting over their ‘sleeping territory,’ and then changing subjects to a fart contest (who makes the weirdest fart noise). All the while I’m telling them to please ‘shut up.’ But it’s funny.

They came on Tuesday, and now it’s Sunday, meaning they’ve been here for a total of six days. (OMG ALREADY  NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO A WEEK HAS PASSED ALREADY!?!?!?!!?!?!?!)

So anyhow, back to the point.

(I never told you the point.)

We went to New York yesterday, and my dad was all stubborn and wanted to take them to Central Park, which honestly, is not a very logical decision, since the weather’s supposed to be, to be subtle, ‘rainy.’

Anyhow, we drove to New York (yep, can’t really go places too much on a train when you have seven people), and we walked all around to Central Park. When we finally got in, my dad wanted us to go to this big lake place, so of course, he pretended he knew something (or maybe he actually did), and made us walk for about an hour. (Of course, after about thirty minutes, we realized we passed ‘this place’ before, in the beginning, implying we were pretty much walking in circles). All the while, there was a light drizzle, enough to have droplets annoyingly plop themselves into my eye. (Glasses don’t help. In fact, they fog your vision more. Droplets on your glasses=demented vision.)

Then, we gave up (or did I already tell you that), and so of course, mother Nature decided to make it pour. Like crazy. The sort of rain that you only see in dramas, where there is a couple who is about to break up and leave or something, I don’t know, one of those cheesy sad rainy scenes. Super DownPour. Literally. We were soaking wet from head to toe.

And it does NOT help that my shoes (flats) were all itchy and full of pebbles and dirt and water. (Turns out my feet were bleeding—the ankle-edge-place, you know. Figured that out AFTER we walked all around Central Park. smart.)

We waited in the rain (while eating rain-soaked KimBap), but then when the rain wouldn’t stop. So we cleverly put the vinyl (from wrapping kimbap) and the lids to the kimbap box, and backpacks, and everything and anything we could get a hold of, over our heads and rain blindly out of Central Park.

We just ran to the Apple store (which is pretty far, in terms of how long we walked). But when we left Central Park, it stopped raining, so it wasn’t THAT bad. I mean, our hair was soaking wet, and so were our clothes and feet, but besides that, it wasn’t THAT bad. Even though seeing people nice’n’dry with umbrellas was the most jealous feeling you could feel at the moment.

The apple store was awesome, because they let you use the new MacBook Pro or something, and it was absolutely exquisitely superbly gourmet a technological meal.

Did that make sense. Who cares. Whatever. You get the point.

And then we went to Times Square and went to the Toys R Us store, bought candy, went to the Disney store, cooed over super cute stuffed animal-characters, and went to some other places, and then went home. By then, we were all semi-dry, smelly, and our legs hurt.

What a beautiful way to spend a day at New York City. I’m sure they’ll remember the place fondly.

THREE DAYS

Three days ‘till what? Maybe you don’t care, but I DO! :DDD  MY COUSINS ARE COMING YAHHHH AKJHGALSOEIYGKJWNGLAKIHlkgi]uqy2p498ehslkjdva sdj
…
Sorry for the keyboard spasm.
But I don’t feel like deleting it. >:P
So these days I’m living in deviantart, which is an awesome place if you like drawing and stuff.
And there are lots of awesome artists out there. :D
I’m wondering what to do when my cousins are here. I mean, there’s not much to do when you’re stuck at home besides the computer. And we can’t have five kids crowding around a computer. So what do we do?
I mean, they’re all boys, so I can’t make them cook or something. We’ll probably end up spending three weeks on Starcraft and other videogames, especially on the XBOX. I wish they were awesome at drawing (who knows, maybe they had such hidden talent that they never told us of) so that we can all draw together, but I doubt that..
We can play card games (funfunfunfunfun) and board games (a bit less fun), and maybe teach them English (for maybe obvious reasons). Because they’re from ***(Insert censored Country Name Here)***.
Do we all sit on the couch and play the ‘get up first and you lose’ game?
Or do we--
I dunno.
I just hope we don’t end up sleeping three weeks straight or something. Something fun, I hope.
The time will come.
Three days.
…
MUST GROW SO COUSIN NOT TALLER THAN ME BUT I DOUBT THAT BECAUSE APPARENTLY HE GREW A LOT OVER THE YEAR AND I DIDN’T NOT MUCH.

This is a sincere prayer:
O Dear God, let me miraculously grow three inches in three days. Thank you. In the name of Jesus Christ our Lord,
Amen.

The worst day of 2012 so far. D:

Because of the unexpected half-day-scheduled-whole-day, I was starving. If it was just a half day, I would have come home at like one o clock and eaten. If it was a whole day, I would have time during lunch, so I wouldn't starve to death.
But it was an unexpected half-day-scheduled-whole-day. It was the most unexpected of days. Imean, I didn't even know they existed! A mutation of the combination of a half day and a whole day. It was a whole day, alright, but the periods were scheduled as half days. Meaning, all the classes would be thirty minutes long (or however long the half day periods are), which would result in two hours left of nothing after last period, because usually, on half days, they would let us out late, but today was a half-day-scheduled-whole-day.
/
Those two hours of nothing, we were each assigned classrooms to go to, based on what period we had whom for social studies, and we would force some school spirit out of our tired minds.
For about ten minutes, the teacher, (whom I do not know, which is kind of difficult, considering I keep forgetting her name) looking at the unresponsive class, asks for the umpteenbillionth time, "Seriously? No ideas to how to decorate our school banner? Team banner, I mean. This is for our team! We're in competition against the other teams!"
Which makes us all the more lazy, because honestly, who heard of teams versing each other? This is teamwork we're going for, and the team is the school. Making divisions among the population of our school will create only diversion and hatred. And pride. And shame.
But of course, the teacher whose name is easily forgotten, decides to force some school spirit out of our "boring minds." She draws this hawk on the board (which, if you look at it, looks more like a hot dog with bat wings) and a square around it, and tells us to each go up to the board and add our ideas.
OUR NONEXISTENT IDEAS, SCREW THIS.
/
/
Then, she goes, "OH! Why don't we try doing __________?" And says some decent idea, and we all nod, because it's better than that hot dog bat on the board. She does this two more times within the time of fifteen minutes, with a five minute span in between the three "ideas."
She then looks at us and says, "Come on, guys. You can't be this boring. I can't believe from this big a class, you can have such little ideas!" (We're the smallest social studies class our social studies has. Seriously?)
WE ARE THIS BORING, WOMAN. WHAT DID YOU THINK CHILDREN WERE? HYPERACTIVE CREATIVE CHILDREN WITH IDEAS TO HOW TO DECORATE SCHOOL BANNERS ON THEIR MINDS?
And so went the two hours.
But actually, we came up with pretty good ideas and made a pretty good hawk with a pretty good decoration and pretty good drawings. So overall, it was pretty good.
/
/
But not the starvation.
Godsh, I thought I was dying by the end of the day. Three o clock or something around that, and I can't hear anything because my stomachs screaming nonstop.
Even better! I have to stay after school. Meaning all I'll have since nine o clock is nothing, besides the scraps of chips I gather from friends who (cleverly) brought money to buy stuff from the vending machine.
/
/
I stay until five thirty. Meaning I went from nine to five thirty with six chips. One Sun Chip, one Lays salt and vinegar, two Hot Fries, and one nacho Doritos. Or was it two Doritos? I'm not sure.
Either way, that was not enough to satisfy my ravenous mood.
Then, as psychology often proves, everything looked like food. Not literally, because how can and drill suddenly look like candy, or wood and styrofoam look like--pizza, I don't know. Just small things. This really cutely decorated basket full of green fluff fuzzy stuff looked like ice cream (the sort in the bowl, yaknow? Like Breyers ice-cream?) all of a sudden, and I kept thinking of that kind of stuff.
Then, my stomach hurt, which did not help at all, because I then knew I couldn't steal any more junk food (anyhow everyone ate their's, so...).
/
/
Then, at five thirty, I went outside to wait for my mom, except it was FREEZING. I didn't feel like being alone next to all of those annoying basketball boy peoples yelling at each other and jumping around inside, so I stayed outside when my friends went outside to get picked up by their moms and dads.
/
Then, I saw this boy who was yelling at someone, and I thought it was my brother, so I ran over to the car with the boy sticking his head out the window, only it turned out it was some other dude. So I looked over the car, pretending I thought the car behind it was the car I thought my mom was in, and then casually turned around and walked back, my cheeks redder than they already were.
I was in an extremely terrible mood.
And so as I was waiting, I was more and more and more angry, and when my mom did come (after all of my friends left), I was fuming, except it would have been nice if I were literally fuming, because that would mean there would be some warmth in my body. So I was freezing fuming.
Anyhow, I climbed in, and said, "why did you come so late? I was freezing."
/
/
And, the rest is history, as some people may say.
I got yelled at.
/
/
Well, adding to my more terrible mood, I stomped to the basement, and didn't even stop for goldfish, because I'd have to cross my mother on the way to the goldfish, and she would ask why, and then I'd have to tell her about the unexpected half-day-scheduled-whole-day, and then I would feel better. But I didn't feel like feeling better, so I didn't get goldfish, and I didn't cross my mom until dinner, where I shoveled the food down my throat because (1) I was so hungry, so hungry I could eat my mom and brother in two bites (half a bite for my brother, one and a half for my mom), (2) I was so mad, because not only was I yelled at, but I had this annoying half-day-scheduled-whole-day, and I was starving and I was cold, and (3) I felt like it.
/
/
And now, my stomach feels all cold and weird, probably because I stuffed too much food way too quickly down my throat, swallowing at mouthfuls at a time.
But it was SO GOOD. Imean, it was delicious. I was so hungry, but all of that food--omnomnomnomnom.
Food is best. C:
//
//
/
Moral of the story: Today was the terriblest day of 2012 so far, and the dinner was AWESOME.

In case you're not Korean, (which most cases, you probably aren't), don't use google translate. It's terrible.
The grammar and sentence structure is different than that of English grammar and sentence structure, so it messes up the program. Use it for words--and not even then.
The title just says 'I like Pepero<3333'
Anyhow.

So I came up with this awesome idea. No. Wait.
Actually, it's not too awesome, and I didn't come up with it.
My dad did.
So you're probably disinterested now, since I said the phrase 'my dad', and that immediately makes about 78.2% of you go somewhere else. Or worse yet, 'X' the screen out and run away from the computer in fear. For the 21.8% of you who are still reading this, congratulations.
Anyhow.
It's still an okay idea, I guess.
Since I'm so mean to my brother--wait. I take that back. Since I'm rarely kind to my brother, my dad came up with this okay idea.
He made a point system.
It's called "칭찬포인트" which in English is "Compliment Point."

So if I compliment my brother kindly and truthfully, I get a 'Compliment Point'.
If I get ten points, I get a small prize.

And the prize is....
dododododododdodrumrolldodododdodododododododo...
You guessed it.
Pepero. 빼빼로! :D

And I'm eating a box right now.
:D
Aren't you proud? I complimented my brother TEN TIMES this week.
Three points so far, back from square one. Seven to go! :D
Gotta get those boxes of Pepero off that shelf into my mouth! O:


Here's an awesome picture:

Awesome. Yes. I told you.