I am 35 years old and still belong to the tribe of children. Like my brothers and sisters aged 7 to 11, I fall to the ground of the fruit snacks aisle and sing and cry and pray and muss myself up something awful in the hopes that a new and delicious color of fruit snack will appear. Some color we have never seen or tasted. Yes, in this tribe are so sweet. Yes, we are made of sugar. Yes, we melt in water. We are so delicious and unbathed.