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Updated: October 28, 2022 @ 2:02 pm
I was doing some grocery shopping rcently when I unsuspectingly walked smack dab into my worst nightmare: the Little Debbie snack cake display.
By all other accounts, Christmas 2007 was perfectly normal. That is, until Santa Claus went and ruined everything.
In addition to him delivering an unusually large number of toys that make an insane amount of racket, he teamed up with my parents (aka Grandma and Grandpa Claus) on a trip to the Little Debbie outlet store, which allegedly exists somewhere in Arkansas.
Now while it’s true that I have a penchant for Oatmeal Creme Pies and an occasional Nutty Bar, imagine my surprise when each of the six members of my immediate family were presented with a gift bag that included not one, not two, not three, but six boxes of Little Debbie snack cakes.
Then factor in that each box has 6-8 individually wrapped treats and you’re looking at approximately 288 snack cakes for our family to share.
There were Banana Twins, Fudge Swirls, Cosmic Brownies, Fancy Cakes, Devil Crèmes, Golden Crèmes, Swiss Cake Rolls, Zebra Cakes, Fudge Rounds, Marshmallow Treats, Star Crunch, Peanut Butter Crunch Bars, …and the list continued.
Each gift bag included a variety of other “useful” items, but the Little Debbie snack cakes were the crown jewel.
My wife and I kept digging in the bag thinking we might find a gift certificate to a local dentist, but we had no such luck.
To make matters worse, my wife and I had noble intentions of beginning our annual New Year’s diet.
But how in the world could we, in good conscience, get underway with that load of gooey sweetness lurking in our kitchen cabinets?
After several seconds of internal debate, I made up my mind.
With only 11 days between Christmas and the official kickoff of the diet on Jan. 5, we would have to devour all 288 Little Debbie snack cakes.
I did the math – 26.19 snack cakes per day, divided by the six of us, meant we would each have to eat 4.37 individual Little Debbie snack cakes every day for 11 consecutive days.
The number would climb to 8.74 per person per day if Swiss Cake Rolls or Nutty Bars or any of the other two-cakes-in-a-package were on the menu.
The kids thought it was a great idea. My wife, however, refused to participate. As a result of her selfishness, the daily average climbed to 5.24 Little Debbie snack cakes per person.
Sure, we could have tossed them in the trash, but with Sally Struthers preaching about the starving kids in Africa, I just couldn’t bring myself to do it.
The good news is that after ten days, we were down to just under 30 snacks to finish the 2007 Little Debbie Holiday Challenge.
The bad news is that on the evening of Day Nine, somewhere between my 82nd and 95th Little Debbie snack cakes, I officially lost my appetite for the gooey sweetness I once craved.
No. 1 Son, then a third grader, told me that he never wanted to see another Little Debbie for as long as he lived.
The twins were so jacked up on sugar that they couldn’t go to sleep at night and had to resort to watching reruns of The Lawrence Welk Show and counting sheep just to get some rest.
No 4 Son Solomon, then only three years old, even picked up the phone and called the dentist himself to schedule a deep dental cleaning – without the blasted gift certificate.
With less than 24 hours remaining, we made the decision to abandon the 2007 Little Debbie Holiday Challenge with 28 snack cakes left.
Little Debbie was disappointed and frankly, so was I.
But then I had a thought – a vision, so to speak. It was a prophetic message from Little Debbie herself that rattled the walls and echoed from the rafters like the sound of barking in a furniture-less house with concrete floors.
Martin the Dog.
Of course, Martin could scarf down 28 snack cakes. We had already eaten all of the chocolate snack cakes, so how bad could a pound or two of processed sugar be on a 25-pound dog’s intestines?
And so it was.
I began by slipping him pieces of Marshmallow Treats under the table when my wife wasn’t looking. Then I filled one of his toys with a half-dozen Banana Twins. When I took him out for his evening constitutional (which was quicker than usual), I fed him a couple of packages of Oatmeal Crème Pies.
And this continued throughout the day until the last snack cake was gone.
We had done it. I remember feeling elated with an overwhelming sense of accomplishment – the kind of feeling marathon runners must feel when they cross the finish line.
We had stared Little Debbie right in her face and sent her – and her 288 snack cakes – back to somewhere in northwest Arkansas, where she belongs.
And that’s just about the time I heard one of the kids let out a blood-curdling scream.
“Martin pooped in my closet.”
Then another.
“Martin pooped under my bed.”
And another.
“Martin pooped in the pantry.”
And finally from Solomon:
“Martin pooped everywhere.”
How bad could a pound or two of processed sugar be on a 25-pound dog’s intestines, you wonder?
Actually, Martin the Dog’s intestines were fine.
It was the hardwood floor that suffered the most.
And thus began the 2007 Clorox Wipe Holiday Challenge.
Thank’s for the memories, Little Debbie – wherever you are.
Mr. Gustafson is the not-so-mild-mannered editor of the Chagrin Valley Times, Solon Times, and Geauga Times Courier. Email him at: editor@chagrinvalleytimes.com
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