This is difficult for me to write, but... I want to see other snacks. Actually, I need to see other snacks. The healthy kind. And I know what you're thinking: "You mean the kind that usually ends up covered in mold because it just doesn't satisfy your sugar cravings the way I do?" Yep, that kind. I know I've said this before. I know I've tried to leave you only to come crawling back when you show up at a party or in my kitchen cabinets the day after a particularly convincing sale at Harris Teeter. But I mean it this time. I'm leaving you. I'm leaving your sweet chocolate goodness, your white cream filling, your rows and rows of delicious, straight-to-my-ass sandwich cookies. People always say "It's not you, it's me." But it really is you. You seemed like such a great catch when milk first introduced us, what with your deceivingly innocent 52 calories and all. But deep down, you're just sugar and flour, and you did everything you could to work your way into my digestive system. Like "Requiem for a Dream," but with high fructose corn syrup. So I'm done with you. You and all your friends, too. I'm done with Funfetti cupcakes and that Lucky Charms knock-off of Target's that I love so much. I'm done with Starburst jelly beans and gummy bears and Butterfingers. I wish I could say that we can still see each other, but you and I both know I don't have that sort of self control. Goodbye, Oreos.
Sincerely,
F.
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