Butterfinger BBs always reminds me of my mother.
She was a single mother; so on her days off she would pick me up from my grandmother’s and we would go to a convenience store and get snacks and sodas. (and for some reason she would get a pack of swishers, no ideas why she would want snacks with a cigarillo, especially since she would slice them open)
We’d go back to my uncle’s house she was renting a room from, hang out in her bedroom and watch The Simpsons, eat butterfingers, and play Mario World.
Roasting nuts; the kind like you’d get from the nuts4nuts carts that moved downtown in the days after the WTC disaster and stayed there almost the whole time. You knew that ashen smell it was covering was something far worse, but now to this day I smell the roasting cashews and it takes me back.