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| Not a HoHo. The HoHos are no more. |
A host of conspiracy theories walk among us. Did aliens crash in Roswell? Did they kidnap Elvis? And are they currently inhabiting the bodies of elected government officials? Maybe. But we have a bigger problem on our hands.
There was a time, in dim and rosy ‘70’s, when The Prude, finding herself somehow endowed with a spare quarter, would purchase a HoHo. Or a Cupcake. Or a Fruit Pie. (The Prude is afraid to use the brand name because They might be listening.)
Every bite was bliss. Real cherries peeked out of the crisp, glazed crust of the Fruit Pie. The creamy filling of the Cupcake was so dreamily creamy and filling. And every bit of stiff icing that fell from the HoHo was captured and savored.
Oh yes, my friends. The 70’s would not have been the same without the occasional but cherished consumption of HoHo’s, Cupcakes and Fruit Pies.
But the 70’s came to a screeching halt somewhere around 1979.
The Prude was now a college student and spare quarters were unheard of.
She evolved into a wife and mother and HoHo money went directly into mortgage payments and diapers.
The ‘90’s hit and so did burgeoning appetites of 3 boys, who were happy enough with the cheaper store brands of snack food.
But The Prude refused to sully her tastebuds with imitations.
She waited. Years passed. Aliens took over the music industry and collaborated with aliens in other countries to steal L’eggs eggs, cool Big Mac boxes and toys from cereal boxes.
And then it was 2011.
The Prude, trawling the corridors of her beloved Piggly Wiggly, found Shangi-La.
A shining and rosy sign proclaimed: ‘Buy 1 HoHo Box, get a Box of Cupcakes for Free’
Finally. Decades of waiting and forbearance and self control were paying off.
Recklessly The Prude snatched 1 HoHo box and its corresponding Free Cupcake Box. She remembered to pay, noting dimly that they no longer cost a quarter apiece.
But no matter! It is just money! She was about to relive her youth!
She hurried home. She put on a Partridge Family song, (‘I Think I Love You’)
She unwrapped her HoHo, placed her hand under the adorable little roll of cake and filling to catch any stray icing, and took a bite.
****
We will draw a merciful curtain over what happened next. It involved outrage, tears, and threats.
Suffice it to say that aliens have taken the original HoHo recipe. I think they gave it to Elvis.
5 comments:
If only people could learn this about high school flames/crushes, that you can't go back. Perhaps you could add that little thought... something about not bothering to look them up on facebook or google to even be tempted to reminisce through rose-colored glasses about what was... because it probably wasn't. They were too young to know that that version of "love" was full of fake flavors and too much sweetness because they hadn't experienced real love yet. Just like your young taste buds were knocked over with the sugar/chocolate kick and convinced that it was better than your mommy's homemade chocolate cake filled with real love and given to you freely. No quarter required.
Sandy, this is really lovely. And bittersweet- because everyone has to learn for themselves to discern the real from the false.
Age does have its benefits!
Unfortunately, I am speaking of those who ARE our age and are thinking about Susie Quintessential from high school and wondering what she is up to now... they should know better than to think she is sweeter than their beloved with whom they have raised their children.
I was not meaning to suggest that those who met their beloved in high school and married them were wrong to do so. None of us are ready for marriage until we have been married to the same person for about 20 years. :)
I miss my cupcakes and susie q's,too! There's nothing like chocolate with ooey gooey white filling! Alas, it is just not the same! - Joanie
I think it's a pinch of salt missing. You do know about the conspiracy against salt, right? Well, I bought a box of Cocoa Wheats (remember those?), and it didn't taste the same at all. I was nearly crushed. But I tried it just once more. This time, on a whim, I added the pinch of salt, and voila! This was the taste, the experience, the warmth I remember. Bliss.
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