Twinkies: When’s the last time you had………………

This afternoon my memory was jogged as I wandered inside the local Walmart.

There they were stacked up in an aisle so that you couldn’t avoid them: Twinkies.

I tried to just walk-on-by but the smile on my face forced a U-turn to pick up a box.

The fact that they are both Limited Edition and Key Lime Slimed only added to the impulse buy.

[I vaguely recall a marketing fact that men are impulse buyers; if that’s so add my name to the list of the guilty, especially regarding comfort foods.]

After  a few seconds I could see Mom in the kitchen making lunch to-go for me, throwing a Twinkie into the brown-paper bag. And if that memory was my mind playing tricks another one was more likely the truth.

It happened when I was in grammar school; fifth-grade I think. Back in those days you could just walk away during lunch hour and return in time for resumption of class: that’s exactly what us wise guys did. However, the quarter we brought from home as school lunch money went instead to the nearby candy store. [The owner probably took early retirement from all those 25 cents.]

Until one day when I was caught in the act.

As our gang – the usual suspects – walked back into school from the sweet adventure guess who saw me with a fist full of sweets: MOM! She had made an unexpected visit to school to bring something I had forgotten that morning.

OH NO! Drat!

I don’t recall any special punishment or grounding, but absent that I didn’t risk being caught a second time and instead I got with the school lunch program.

Back to the box of green Twinkies.

I kibitzed with the young lady at the checkout and told her that an indulgence once in a while – break out of the mold – is highly recommended. And adding green slime to Twinkies was an act of genius on the part of some marketing guru or guress.

How I managed to drive home without tearing open and downing a few I don’t know.

Once through the door of the shack I tooth-ripped the clear plastic packaging, looked at the luscious green filling and savored the first Twinkie since I was about twelve.

Childhood passed in front of my eyes as the verdant concoction settled in my stomach.

Something told me to take a picture of the box and as I laid out my photographer’s sophisticated equipment – a black piece of foam board placed carefully on the bedspread – my best buddy Ernie couldn’t resist the scent of the goodie. Of course I grabbed the camera and got a shot of him as his expression said, “Hey Dad, what about some for me?”


Well, not wanting a reader to report me to the local animal control officer for corrupting the health of a canine, I went to the refrigerator and gave Ern a couple nicks of one of his favorite treats: raw carrots.

Just for fun I placed one Twinkie in the freezer. It is a ” ‘speriment” as we kids used to say.

I’ll work my way savoringly through the box because it might be in the next life before I’ll buy them again; you don’t want to read the Nutrition Facts label.





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