Today I went to COSTCO with my brother and his 2 adorable kids, ages 3 and 6. This particular store catered to individuals who have food vending machines, and rather than sell an entire case of sweet treats, they offer them for sale individually. There was an entire row dedicated to Hostess baked goods. A rainbow variety of fried dough and sugar glazed fruit pies, Ho Ho's, Zingers, Ding Dongs, and holiest of holy… Sno Balls.
Packages of twin day-glo pink mounds of soft marshmallow covered with coconut flakes, enrobing a cream filled chocolate cup cake. I suggested letting the kids pick one treat each for later (a clever guise for an excuse for me to make my own selection MWAHAHAHAH!)
See, I haven’t eaten one of these things in at least a decade, if not longer. Giving up Hostess baked goods is something all adults eventually do when they reach a certain age. Its like a mid-life Lent sacrifice for all eternity. Well, today I decided it was my mid-life Easter Sunday and I would break fast on my baked goods ban! Happily I placed my package of pink, fluffy Sno Balls in the cart next to Raspberry Zingers (niece,) Ho Ho’s (nephew,) and Ding Dongs (brother.)
Once we returned home, I was left alone with my delicious cello-packaged mini Grand Tetons the color representing NOTHING I’ve ever seen in nature. I noted the ingredients list of no less than 50 ingredients (maybe more if you count all the multi-ingredient ingredients….) the first on the list; sugar. Ohhhh, this can’t be good.
Just one bite, I thought. Before dinner. What could it hurt?
I peeled back the marshmallow robe and heard it make that pleasant crackling sound it made even when I was a kid. There it was. The chocolate cupcake.
One bite of the cupcake sent dopamine rushing through my veins to alert my nerve endings of the joyous event. Then the marshmallow. Teeth sinking in to the sticky, spongy layer while bits of pink coconut landed like snowflakes on my lips. The six year old girl in me said “Squeeeeeeeeel!!!”
It may not be something we can have everyday, but every now and again, take your inner 6 year old to the sweets counter and let her pick out anything she wants. Hasn’t she been a very good girl?
- I peruse thrift shops like a junkie. I find such amazing things sometimes that I wanted to share them. I tinker with glass and a hot soldering iron as time allows. I have a collection of thousands of glass beads carefully selected and purchased with the excuse I will make jewelery, but I can't bear to part with a single bead. Not one!! So don't even ask! Ok, you can have one.