Luke was reading his book before bedtime the other day and he needed help with a vocabulary word: Ding Dong. I had him use in it a sentence for me first, before I came up with this excellent definition, “it’s like a ho-ho or a twinkie, but instead of being chocolate of vanilla it’s pink or something and covered in coconut.” I just spent upwards of two minutes researching hostess products only to find that what I described to Luke was actually a Sno Ball. Regardless, his response took me by surprise. He said, “What’s a twinkie? What’s a ho ho?”
Come on! I know we are Boulder hippies, but we aren’t that bad! What’s a ho ho? Are you kidding me? I told him that when I was a kid I had the generic version for lunch every single day of my life. We we were a Swiss Cake Roll family. And when I did finally see or maybe even taste a honest to go ho ho later in life I thought Swiss Cake Rolls were actually better.
My mom kept the Swiss Cake Rolls in the freezer. Why? I don’t know. But when she opened a 2-pack and put one in your lunch, you either got the one that had half the chocolate from the other roll stuck to it, or you got the one that had half the chocolate missing. Hence the childhood phrase, “I CALL CHOCOLATE.”
Twinkies, on the other hand, never crossed the threshold of our house. I always wished we could get twinkies just once, but it never happened. By the time I started babysitting and had my own spending money, I was twelve and had already started dieting, (and by “dieting”, I mean, “lying about my weight”) so even though I still wanted to try a twinkie, I knew it wouldn’t be that enjoyable in the long run.
I shared all these snack cake related memories with the boys and Jack’s response was, “I want one of those Santas!”
Oh honey, “It’s Ho-ho.”
MetaMegan 