Cookie Scandal

I was walking in the Target today. Minding my own business and doing my best to "stick to the list" when something quite shocking happened.

Actually, it might border on scandalous.

You see, I was on a mission to purchase graham crackers. In this home graham crackers and milk, or graham crackers and cheese, or graham crackers and peanut butter are a beloved evening snack. And I'm not talking about the kids or myself.

The Mister is my graham cracker monster. A hunky, lovable, graham cracker, monster.

When we ran out of them last week he asked me to pick more up. But I kept forgetting (normally I only eat graham crackers if there is nothing else sweet in the house and I am desperate). Last night, he sighed as he looked longingly into the pantry, and I new I was treading some mighty deep waters. My man needed him some graham crackers.

I, of course, in the sweetest way possible asked why in the world he didn't just eat ice cream for a night time snack like every one else. Then I laughed real hard (and alone) at my joke, and got up quickly to help him find something to fill his hunger, because y'all, hungry men sometimes don't see the humor in life.

OK, so I am at Target, and I am getting panicked because I can't find Graham Crackers.

But! I did find Nilla Wafers, which is where the scandal in this post is laid out for all to see.

My name is Kellie, and I am addicted to Nilla Wafers. (We love you Kellie.)

I love everything about them: their crunchy, light brown goodness; their partially hydrogenated oils, the way they smell when you open up that foil-y, stay-fresh pouch. Don't even try to substitute with a generic brand, or tell me you have a homemade comparison, because it is not the same. I've tried them.

I have a tendency to eat them until they are gone. Which is why I don't buy them. Ever. Well, ever is a little harsh, but I haven't bought them in a very, very, very long time.

I do believe that this is a genetic problem. I believe I have a gene that is Nilla Waferized. I believe this for two reasons: One, because then I don't have to admit to my gluttony, and Two, because The Girl probably loves them more than I do. I have passed on my gene.

I left them on the counter, unopened (aren't you proud of my self control?), so when she arrived home from school she would see them.

She was literally speechless when she saw them, and looked at me as if I had just given her a pony, and that white fluffy puppy that she has been persistently asking for.

(Sidenote: What's even more funny is that she just walked in the room and said, "Mom, you have to come into my room so that I can show you something funny, and you will have to blog about it." This is what I saw:She placed cookies in each of thier hands.

Since it was so cute, and involved my favorite boxed cookie, I will let go of the fact that she was eating cookies in her room.

Well friends, that is the scandalous story. Oh, you may have wondered what this has to do with graham crackers?

Absolutely nothing.

But it does go to show you that addiction effects everyone...I never ended up buying The Mister his graham crackers...which means I'll be back at the grocery store tomorrow.

End note:
Does anyone else feel like this was the longest week of the year, even though it was only a four day week? I am so glad that it is finally Friday!