Double (Stuf) or Nothin'

The Health Food Tyrants have gone too far.

Have you seen a Double Stuf Oreo lately? I mean, have you actually taken the time to examine the ratio of mystery cream to bland cookie before stuffing it in your face?

There is no way Double Stuf are doubly-stuffed. They are barely single-stuffed.

Double Stuf? I don't think so.

A math teacher (with too much time on his hands) actually weighed and compared Double, Single and Thins in 2013 and – indeed – found that Double Stuf do not contain twice as much Stuf as Single Stuf. But that's not my point. My point is that Double Stuf don't contain as much Stuf as Double Stuf used to. I'd go so far as to say you have to eat double the Double Stuf to get half as much Stuf as Double Stuf used to have.

(BTW: Don't even get me started on “Thins” which look like someone whispered “stuf” from the other side of the factory as the stacks of cardboard cookie shapes were packaged.)

(While we're off the subject: Yes. I did walk five miles, uphill – both ways – through snow, while being chased by velociraptors to get to school.)

I did not buy Double Stuf Oreos because I was being health conscious. I did not buy Double Stuf Oreos thinking they were a low-calorie food. I did not buy a family-sized (Pfft! Family of pigmy mice, maybe!) package of Double Stuf Oreos, sneak them into the house under cover of darkness, hide them in the back of the cupboard behind the expired canned goods, then quietly open them at 6:30 a.m. after my morning workout while everyone else was sleeping, because I thought they were good for me.

No. That's what the bananas, which are conveniently located on the counter – splotchy brown and drawing fruit flies – are for. That's what the shriveled up apples in the crisper drawer are for. That's what the bag of mushy, liquifying, slightly grey and fuzzy . . . well, I'm not sure what it is/was . . in the veggie drawer is for.

You do not need a PhD in nutrition to know that Double Stuf Oreos (or any Oreos) are not a type of health food. Nothing that creamy and delicious, nothing that melts so delightfully on your tongue, leaving that slightly buttery, vaguely nauseating film in your mouth could be good for you. Without even looking at the package I could tell you the ingredients for that mysterious but crave-able filling are, most likely: sugar, sugar, fat, soylent green, and more sugar.

And I'm OK with that. In moderation. On occasion.

I bought this particular package of so-called “Double Stuf” cookies because I was feeling a little down and needed some comfort food. I needed to do a little emotional eating. I needed a chance to wallow in a bad food choice and then regret it and vow never to eat them again. Or until I was feeling blue again.

What was I sad about when I bought them? I have no idea. See? It worked.

Why am I sad now?

I'm out of cookies.

When the Face on the Milk Carton is a Milk Carton

When I got home from the grocery store yesterday I decided to have some Oreos and milk to reward myself for remembering all the things on my grocery list. Things like Oreos… which I had forgotten to pick up the day before, when I went grocery shopping.

Except... we were out of milk.

I just got home from my second trip to the grocery store in two days, and I needed groceries.

The story of my life.

If only... I thought.

If only there were some way for the milk carton to let me know that it was almost empty and that I first trip to the store, but the children and the husband have been on a cereal-for-breakfast kick lately and I hadn't factored in the increased milk usage when I made out my shopping list.

should probably think about picking up more the next time I was at the store. I could swear I had checked the milk before my

If only... I thought.

If only someone who had – oh, I don't know – used almost all of the milk had told me “Hey, we're almost out of milk.” Or if only someone who had – oh, I don't know – actually used the last of the milk had told me “Hey, we are now actually out of milk.” Then maybe I would have remembered to add milk to the grocery list, and maybe I would have picked up milk either the day before, when we were almost out of milk, or yesterday, when we were actually out of milk.

I say “maybe,” because I have, on occasion, been known to forget to pick up items that are on my grocery list. And I have, on occasion, been known to forget to put things on my list thinking “Oh, I won't forget to get that, because that is totally the only reason I am even going to the grocery store.” And that is why I usually call or text my family while I'm sitting in the grocery store parking lot to ask them if they've thought of anything else I need to pick up.

That's when I thought “If only someone would invent a little microchip that you could put on a milk carton to remind you it's time to get more milk.” Then, when I'm writing out my grocery list and I shout “Is there anything else I need to get when I'm at the grocery store?” the milk carton could beep, or somehow reply “Why yes! You are almost out of milk! Please remember to put milk on your list and pick up milk when you are at the grocery store.”

Although I have to admit, hearing a voice call out from inside the refrigerator would be a little weird.

You know what wouldn't be weird? Having my children or my husband reply “Why yes! I used almost all the milk this morning on my cereal (even though I didn't actually drink the milk that was left over after I ate my cereal and basically wasted a whole cup of delicious, sugary-sweet, vitamin-enhanced milk by pouring it down the drain). Please remember to put milk on your list and pick up milk when you are at the grocery store.”

And then I thought, “If only that little microchip in my milk carton could send me a text message or just call me up when I'm at the store and say 'Hey! It's me, your milk carton. I know I wasn't almost empty when you left to go to the grocery store, but I am now, so could you please pick up more milk while you are at the grocery store?”

Although, expecting a microchip in a milk carton not only to have that kind of self-awareness, but also to know my shopping schedule would be a little weird.

You know what wouldn't be weird? If, when I text or call my family and tell them I'm sitting in the grocery store parking lot about to go into the store and I ask them if they have thought of anything else we need, like milk, they would actually go to the refrigerator, open it up, check the milk and let me know if I need to get more.

But until microchip milk cartons – or helpful family members – become a reality I'm stuck making frequent trips to the grocery store. Even if that means going to the grocery store three days in a row. Or sometimes going to the grocery store three times in one day.

And so this morning I made a special trip to the grocery store just to pick up a gallon of milk. Then I came home to have Oreos and milk. I knew we had Oreos at home because I had just bought them yesterday.

Except I hid them.

And I don't remember where.

If only... I thought.

“If only someone would invent a little microchip that you could put on a package of Oreos to remind you where you hid it.”