Free the animal waffles from the cruel confines of the iron! Free them to the wide world of being eaten by something much larger than they are!
My grandmother used to make excellent shortbread. She'd melt the butter and sugar together using the heat of her bare hands, massaging it between her fingers until it all melded together uniformly. They were so buttery and tender and delicious. They would have been perfectly worthy of becoming little Totoros.
A marshmallow, toothpicks, edible ink, a little candy and a hollow plastic Easter egg. Perfect! I'd much rather see a sweet little edible chick in an egg as opposed to the half dollars of my youth. I imagine I'd be able to get these without the accompanying WWII stories as well. Love you Uncle Ray, but a seven year old doesn't need to know about the South Pacific Theater.