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I freaking love camp. I grew up going to camp. I was a junior counselor at camp. I spent a couple years “crashing” camp (I didn’t work there, but I stopped in every night to eat dinner and spend the rest of the night volunteering). Then, seven hours after my husband and I returned from our honeymoon, I moved to the woods for three months to work at camp. The last two summers, I have visited camp and the staff has seen me go from super pregnant… to mom… and then watched Munchie go from floppy newborn… to walking toddler. Get it? Other people like camp… I freaking love camp.

I have made some incredible friends at camp… and when you live in the woods with strangers for a summer, you all become a quirky family. You laugh together, cry together, but most importantly… you share each other’s care packages.

Insert Cheddar (everyone at camp has camp names). Cheddar’s mom sends the best care packages ever. Sometimes, there will be a giant box packed with crazy cheeses from her home state of Wisconsin. Other times, she gets things like… a new digital camera (that accidentally got put in the freezer, because her mom is known for sending food… so all of her packages go in the freezer). But, the BEST care package she gets is FUDGE NUN FUDGE!

Fudge Nun Fudge is literally made by nuns in their nun house (my only point of reference is Sister Act)… and it isn’t just limited to fudge. They make all kinds of confectionery delights. Well, a huge box of this shows up every summer… plenty to share… and I lose my mind. I always get sent home with a box, as a fond camp memory. This year, Munchie is all about Fudge Nun Fudge (because we gave him a lick) and is losing HIS mind, too!

So, I need to properly thank Cheddar’s mom…

Dear Mrs. Cheddar’s Mom,

Thank you so much for sending these holy sugary treats to camp each year. I promise, they don’t melt before they arrive (I know you are concerned about this) and are eaten with great haste. I am well aware that your daughter won’t always be able to travel to camp and spend her summers with us… so I want you to know… when that happens… she has my personal address… and you can still send me Fudge Nun love.

Love always, Pogo (my camp name)… and Munchie (since he is eating this stuff, too)

After googling to find the Fudge Nun’s website, I learned you should not EVER google fudge nun (you are going to do it… and I’m just telling you… I warned you).

These are the REAL Fudge Nuns!!!
^^^ Hint: This would make an awesome Christmas present for Momma Bish.

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