The death of me

Twinkies will be the death of me.

Mostly because they're Twinkies. Obviously. Not a member of a respected food group. Unless you count preservatives as a food group.

Some people do, ya know.

When I was a kid my mom would hide our lunchbox treats so my brothers wouldn't eat them all. She would often put treats in the freezer, too. I think she hoped it would slow us down, but it just taught me to eat frozen Twinkies and Christmas cookies.

When I was a teenager, I lived in Germany. If any of my high school friends ever read this blog, they could correct me if I a wrong, but I'm pretty sure I'm right when I say we didn't have access to Twinkies. So for three years I didn't taste a Twinkie.

When we landed stateside, one of the first things I did was eat a Twinkie.

And I gagged. It was awful. It was sickeningly sweet. It tasted fake on my tongue. I was convinced Hostess had ruined my childhood love of Twinkies! I swore them off after that. In the past 27 years, I'm sure I could count the Twinkies I've had on one hand.

But then I read the book Eat This, Not That for Kids and they said of all the treats, they'd choose Twinkies. Saturday night, we had company for the kids and so as a treat I bought the Devil's Treat.

I did exhaustive research reading all the Hostess and Little Debbie boxes and the Twinkies were not so bad after all. So I bought 'em.

Isn't this a riveting tale?

I know I can freeze them and I intended to. But...um...there's only 2 or 3 left in the box and now I'm obsessed thinking about how eating them would remove them from the house once and for all.

I've backed off on sugary treats since the week after Christmas and I've done well so far. And I actually told myself they wouldn't interest me because I am full of will power, good intentions and like I said, they're sort of gross.

If by gross, you mean tasty. In a gross way.

For all my good intentions, I'm sure the road to hell is paved with Twinkies.