Yesterday, we visited the Seattle Premium Outlets at Tulalip about 40 minutes north because the girls needed some warmer clothes, and I wanted to visit the huge Walmart Supercenter next to it to get some Thanksgiving stuff (yes, I’m making my first Thanksgiving dinner!).

We spent a nice chilly afternoon walking about, shopping and spending a TON of money, when we saw The Fudgery, a confection shop with singing employees advertising their “delicious, hot fudge” in various ditties within and without the store. And man, can they sing. I think part of the job requirement is to be able to carry a tune well, and be willing to shamelessly render different popular songs, in which some of the lyrics were replaced with words like ’hot fudge’ and ‘family’ and ‘delicious’.

Suffice to say, we were sold. In we walked to buy not fudge though, but some ice cream for the kids. We weren’t really sweets people, but figured we should at least buy SOMEthing for their efforts. Yea, we are, or at least I am, such a sucker for fancy advertising. These guys were singing for their supper, literally. We HAD to oblige!

So we bought our ice cream and sat right outside with the kids to enjoy it, and to, you know, see if the workers would suddenly start eating sticks of fire or swallow swords. They didn’t, but we were still treated to more fudged up tunes, in the literal sense. But tried as they did, it must’ve not been a very fudgy day because apart from us, and a few more suckers after us, business was extremely slow for the poor Fudgettes. In fact, it was so low that even Rae noticed. With a mouth covered in chocolate, she turned to me and whispered behind a gloved hand.

“Mommy? Why isn’t it working?” Outraged she was at the indignity of it all. I literally snorted lemonade. Half laughing, I asked.

“Why don’t you ask the lady?” I know, it’s cruel. I’m cruel like that.

I was quickly admonished.

“No! You don’t ask people such things! Children cannot ask adults such things!” she whispered indignantly, looking at me as though I was daft, before returning to her ice cream. Meanwhile Miss Fudgerino rendered a shaky tune of Isn’t Fudge Lovely? which, to Rae’s eventual satisfaction, managed to reign in a few more patrons from the cold, upon which was bestowed a chocolatey smile and a nod.

Mission accomplished.

I really don’t know what I would’ve done if she had gone and asked the lady why her singing didn’t seem to be working. Maybe next time? 

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