Sometimes it's the tiniest of crunches that create the biggest whimsies. Tonight was my mother-in-law's birthday and we decided upon a wonderful tai place with umbrellas hanging outside and the most peaceful green garden undercoving to celebrate a birthday. We were placed beside a waterfall with a trickling that left your insides feeling rather serene. 

The coined word of the night was "crunch." She loved the beef because it had a "crunch" and the tofu because it had a "crunch." We had a sampling of miniature french desserts from a bakery near where we live and her favorite dessert was a chocolate mound with a little "crunch" on the outside and a little "crunch" on the bottom. She must have said the words "love" and "crunch" more than thirty times before the night was over. And we began to tease her about her little crunch obsession. 

I always enjoy watching the nuances of families and familial tendences that have been passed down because something I love about my husband more than anything is he is eternally grateful for any food set before him and all the little "crunches" in life. 

When you stop loving the "crunches" I think you stop admiring the whimsies because as I have said before and through this self-discovery processes, whimsy are "crunches" small bites that make up a larger bite into a larger moment and a larger memory. If you think of that chocolate mousse dessert, the crunch is at the bottom (the foundational crunch) and the tiniest of crunches exist on the outside of the mound before the mousse filling. Those who catch the tiniest crunchest receive the biggest joys. And those of us who want life to chomp away rather than crunch, we forget what it was we were even eating in the first place. Because the crunches require patience and the chomps require nothing at all.