It must have been the krinkling. Was it really that loud?

She knew she should’ve grabbed a bowl but her cravings were OUT OF CONTROL.

Not enough time to open the cupboard, search for an appropriately sized receptical, open the package and pour the goods.

It was an EMERGENCY.

Natalie stared down at her from the doorway; her hair was slightly mussed in that recently sleep-caressed manner and her nightgown was slightly askew.

Georgia was on the kitchen floor, a pile of limbs and processed food packaging, her rainbow pajamas adding to the colorful mosaic of America’s favorite snacks.

“Are you eating barbecue chips topped with ice cream? Out of the bag?” Natalie’s wide but sleep-crusted eyes were wild with amazement.

“Ummm…yeah,” Georgia mumbled as she flicked some barbecue dust off her knee. She noticed several large drops of the creamy dessert on the front of her pajama top.

“Is that…chocolate chip cookie dough ice cream?” Natalie’s brow furrowed and she scrunched up her mouth like a disparaging parochial school nun.

“Ummm…yeah. There are some gummy bears in there, too.”

Georgia cleared her throat.

“I use the second bag of chips to top the ice cream with crumbles as I work my way down to the chips at the bottom of bag number one. Sometimes I mix barbecue with salt and vinegar. It’s kind of a thing. I know it’s gross but I like it.”

A smile spread across Natalie’s face. “Sounds waaaaay better than mom’s cooking.”

She rolled her eyes and plopped herself down next to Georgia, right into the shards of barbecue bliss and a luscious puddle of creamy contentment.

A stray gummy bear peered up between Natalie’s toes as if to egg her on.

“Well, get me a bowl and show me how to build this thing,” she said. “I want to learn from the best.”

Georgia stared at her sister for a second and then the two of them burst out laughing.

“Shhhhhhh!” Natalie hissed between giggles, “We don’t want to wake up mom and share any of this. This is OUR thing now.”