The Huffington Post recently did a piece on the 21 Most Disgusting Foods You Used To Be Able To Get Away With Eating – and while I’m too old to have indulged in some of them, there are those on the list that my kids definitely dig into.
Oh, I try to be the voice of reason. When I shop, I do my best to only bring home some of the contraband and I tell myself repeatedly that it’s not for me – it’s for the children. Then with one trip to Target, my husband goes and spoils it all by buying something stupid like the junk food. It’s like Christmas when he gets home. He’s the rehabilitated Scrooge and the kids are little Bob Cratchets – “Oh bless you! Bless you ever so!”
What does he bring home? Many of the things on the HuffPo list. Stuff I never ate as a kid because even I think they’re disgusting. Like the pizza rolls. Here’s a list – not that he shops with a list, mind you. It’s more like he traverses the snack aisle and just brushes it off the shelf and into the cart like CC Rider on a bender.
Remember the scene from that movie? I don’t know why, but I’ll never forget it. Okay, yes, I do know why – because the dude just goes in and puts together an entire lunch while breezing down the aisles; makes himself a sandwich, washes it down with a soda, and busts open a package of Bounty’s to wipe his face. What a gentleman, right? That clearly made an impression on me.
Anyway, the list…
* Pop Tarts – the family size, because my husband is economically inclined that way.
* The aforementioned pizza rolls
* Cheetos. Oh, but not just one kind! One kid likes ’em spicy and crunchy, while the other one prefers old school puffy and cheesy. He likes our children to be happy. How altruistic.
* No fewer than 3 liter bottles of soda: A&W root beer, Sprite and Coke – everybody’s happy – except for Mom.
* Cereals. Yes plural. And because they all have a shelf life of forever and my children’s palates have the attention span of yesterday’s Trix commercial, we still have petrified red dye #4 riddled puffed rice from 2005 hanging out in the pantry. Listen, do me a favor, will you? If you see the little green guy with the top hat and he happens to ask “Where’s me Lucky Charms?”, tell him they’ve been in my kitchen since 2001 and can he please come get them the hell out of my damn house.
* The “Party Size” pack of Reese’s Peanut Butter Cups. Oh, we’re not having a party. Unless you consider me sneaking a few and then stepping on the scale the next morning to experience a massive shame spiral a party.
* Klondikes bars. Turns out my kids never have to wonder what they’d do for a Klondike while they’re under our roof. Klondike acquisitions are absolutely guaranteed for the duration.
* Every configuration of Goldfish crackers currently known to man.
If you ever wondered if Goldfish crackers were being marketed mostly to males, wonder no further. There is one “flavor” that presents itself in the festive pink and purple pastels we gals have come to know and expect and after that, we are BLASTED! Everything is FLAVOR BLASTED, as if Chuck Norris broke down the door of the factory and personally blasted the poor little fishies in every configuration of bastardized flavor that might be pleasing to your local frat house. Turns out, my 14 and 8 year olds love ’em too.
Oh, I could go on, but you get the idea. It’s a snack free-for-all around this place and really, who am I kidding? I’m guilty of having a certain fondness for Wendy’s.