We could not, no matter how many stores we combed, locate a single pack (roll, sleeve...what the hell are the called anyway?) of PEZ.
The H only likes PEZ. He does not like Smarties, he is not partial to chocolate. Nope. Just the PEZ. All other candy is rated far below PEZ in The H’s estimation. He is, in fact, a PEZ junkie. The little man refers (thanks to Mr. Smith) to PEZ by the code name “chalk.”
So, out of desperation, we turned to the internet. That is where we can find anything and everything.
Mr. Smith located an establishment that had PEZ. They had cases of PEZ. We ordered $30 worth. That translates to about 90 packs, rolls, sleeves...whatever.
The H approaches me at a high rate of speed wielding a PEZ dispenser.
The H: “It gettin’ to be time for chalk. Yeah.”
Me: “Oh honey. We don’t have any chalk.”
The H: “How come?”
Me: “Well, you ate all the chalk we have. And we can’t find any in any of the stores.”
The H: “But I want some.”
Me: “I know sweetie, but we don’t have any.”
The H: “YEAH WE DOOOOOO.”
Me: “No, we don’t honey.”
The H: “YYYEEEEEAAAAHHHHH WEEEEEEEEE DOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!”
At which point, he runs out of the room screaming. A few minutes later, we begin again.