The only thing I don’t like about Pombears is that they don’t last forever — sooner or later, the last one has been eaten and all you have to look forward to is wholesome, nourishing food prepared with care and love in a kitchen vibrant with life and soul ¹.
Well … that and the fact they remind me, in excrutiating detail, of all three times she broke my heart into so many pieces I’ll never even find them all again let alone put them back together ² — but that’s an altogether different story … not relevant here.
Yes, heartbreak, existential horror, the human condition … Pombears got it all — you’ll laugh, you’ll cry, they’ll change your life ³.
¹ Which is all well and good, in its way, but doesn’t resolve the Pombear-famine situation one bit.
² Which is why I have never been able to eat Pombears since.
³ It’s amazing what you can shoehorn in whilst barely even trying.