I have been eating Oreos since I was a little girl. My grandpa taught me how to dunk. He also taught me to clean fish and reload shotgun shells. I taught him to braid pigtails in Barbie hair and paint toenails.
In the summer, Gramps would commission me to pull dandelions from the front yard. A penny a piece, ten for a dime, fifty gets you a Popsicle from the Boyle's Joyland ice cream truck. Pulling dandelions is fun for about five minutes. Watching a four-year-old pull dandelions is fun for about four minutes. After that? Not so much.
If you are a Grandpa, it is more fun to snooze in the lawn chair and snore like a hibernating grizzly. If you are a Popsicle crazed pre-schooler, it is more fun to spin a thread of magic penguins and lucky bald spots in order to convince the neighbor children to each pull ten dandelions in order to earn "Great good fortune" by making a wish while rubbing the bald spot on the head of a slumbering Grandpa. A magic penguin hunting Grandpa. Thankfully, Gramps was a sound sleeper.
My plan was to earn enough cash to buy gobs of Popsicles. I dreamed of cleaning out the freezers, spending my days with sticky fingers, a blue tongue, dripping Bomb Pops in both hands.My Old Granny busted me less than an hour into my Popsicle Ponzi scheme. When the ice cream truck came that day, we all got Popsicles. I had to share the loot with my pawns. Lesson learned (Sort of).
Every time I hear the ice cream truck, I think about Gramps-- and magic penguins. I still dunk Oreos. Oreos are like Popsicles. If one is good, more is better. Why buy plain Oreos when double stuff is available? More stuff = More better. It makes sense.
It made sense until today. After years of consuming countless bags of Double Stuff Oreos I discovered that “Stuff” is not “Stuff” at all. “Stuff” is actually “Stuf”. What the hell? My childhood memories were a hoax. I guess it serves me right.
Thank goodness, I still have dandelions and magic penguins.