I ate all the Oreos.

I have a confession: I ate all the Oreos.

Do you know how long it’s been since I’ve had Oreo cookies? AGES. Well, now it’s only been a few minutes… but prior to the debauchery that began last night, it had been ages!

A friend of mine had posted a delicious-looking photo of an “Oreo cake bomb” – Oreo bomb cake? Something like that! – to Facebook. It sounded like pure. sugary. heaven. With all the things that have transpired recently, I thought I’d treat myself to one; or half of one, at least, since I do not need to eat an entire Oreo-based cake by myself. So, I purchased the ingredients, including the seductive little cookies (double stuffed – like my friend used), then stowed them away, intending to attempt the concoction just a few days later. And for 24 hours, they were good. Safely out of sight, out of mind, all of the sugary ingredients failed to tempt me. Until last night…

Prior to dinner, my Spidey sense began to tingle and I could no longer trick myself into thinking there was no free-range sugar in the house.

“Hey!” my brain said. “I know there’s something in here. You’re keeping it from the Eyes, but the Taste Buds and I have been talking and we know there are cookies around here somewhere… get one! Just one. Please? Then we’ll be cool.”

Knowing that anything bite-sized and sugary is like crack-salted Pringles for me (once you ‘pop’, you’re pretty much screwed), my instincts cried, “It’s a trap!”

I had to think fast. If I still want one after dinner, I bargained, then I can have just that: one. Surely this would be enough time for the craving to subside.

To be brief, it wasn’t.

I had consumed five of those little black-and-white temptations before restraining myself and placing the re-sealed package as far back in the cupboard as it would possibly go. At the time, it seemed as though I could simply trick myself again – hide them in a different, more out-of-sight, location until it was cake time. My mind, however, was like a kid who had been told not to look in a certain closet, where mom almost certainly hid the Christmas presents each year. Every inch of this house was going to be scoured for creamy cookie goodness as soon as the taste buds recovered.

The next morning was slow and calm. I had my coffee, read my news feeds, and made the mistake of not making myself something healthy and filling before my brain (and subsequent sugar craving) woke up. “Oreos!” it cried, alerting me to its wakefulness. “Must have cookies! Stomach is hungry.”


I quelled the desire with a couple of cookies with the intention of cooking breakfast right after, but then I didn’t feel hungry anymore. I decided to write my 500 words for the day, then make some real food. Except, those 500 words generated a clever idea… one of those seeds you have to get down, for fear it might be the product of a sniggledy frippit. Then I lost track of time.

“Hungry!” Brain and Stomach chimed in unison.

“Be quick!” Creativity warned. Creativity can be big, bright, and beautiful… but is able to fizzle at the slightest distraction sometimes.

“You know what’s quick?” I paused to hear out Brain’s suggestion, since Creativity had seized most of my processing power. “Oreos.”

“Terrible idea…” a small voice called from the recesses of my mind. Could that be Reason? I listened for it again, but Brain must have squelched it.

Just a couple more, I reasoned with myself, certain that would be it. No more after this. How wrong I was…

Noon came and went, the hours slowly ticked by, and every so often Brain and Stomach would harmonize: Ooorreeoooos.

A handful at a time, I ate my way through. Eventually, it was about time for the normal working day to end and my partner would be arriving home. I was hungry, but I doubted he’d be ready for dinner yet. Just a snack, then.

“Guess what?” Brain was absolutely zinging with ideas since I’d been feeding it sugar sandwiches. “I’ve got a fever, and the only prescription is more Oreos!”

Stomach wasn’t exactly pleased with Brain’s enthusiastic suggestion, but the Hands seemed to work on their own now. They’d become slaves to the saccharine master. But when they reached into the bag again, there was nothing but ridged plastic sleeves and crumbs. The Oreos were gone.

Suddenly, it was as if Brain had regained its sense. Reason had returned.

“What have you done?!” it chastised.

I ate them all. I ate the entire bag of Oreos.

The Hips would not be pleased…


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