Dear Cracker Jack

Dear Cracker Jack®:

 Your caramel-coated popcorn is as good as ever but the prize is getting sort of small.
 And the peanuts ... where did the peanuts go?

 I'll admit it. I'm a little nostalgic. I remember those tiny cardboard boxes when I was a kid. I'd get off school for the day, stop by the grocery store where my Dad worked, and maybe get a box of Cracker Jack®. This was a special deal, not one of your penny Bazooka gum days.

 A whole box ... to myself. I'd peal the shiny foil outer layer away, push in the scored cardboard and tip that box to my mouth. Heaven! The boy on the box, and his dog (Bingo, right?) looked as happy as I. Maybe I only had a third of a mile walk home from school and the box would barely last that long, but I was happy.

 And then there was that "prize in every box", usually hidden near the bottom. Who would ever open a Cracker Jack® box from the bottom just to get at the prize first? Surely not me. I was too conventional for that. And, don't they say, good things come to those who wait?

 The other day I was at the grocery and I picked up a bag of Cracker Jack®. I'm 64 years old so that alone should make you proud. Same lovely taste. But the peanuts are kind of small in number and the prize ... well the prize ... ain't much!

 Don't I remember as a kid getting physical objects such as a decoder ring? Maybe a plastic soldier? Real baseball cards? Sure, they weren't worth much but they were worth something. I'd think a kid today would expect even more. I know mature men do.

 What I found inside was just paper. This isn't even a card. It's more of a stamp, without the glue.

 I realize my checking account is only paying 4/10 of one percent and if banks can't afford to pay more than that, how can I expect Cracker Jack® to offer more than paper?
 I suppose I can't. So, forget I ever said anything. The popcorn's sure good.