All I had to do was reach into the shopping cart and remove the offending tub in one definitive swoop. My husband (aka The Goat) had slipped it in there.
Nonetheless, I acted as if I didn't notice and now we have a tub of Cool Whip sitting in the fridge. What can I do?
First, I outwardly (and I daresay pathetically) protested (Cool Whip! You bought Cool Whip?) while covertly getting accustomed to the idea of it. The assimilation period quickly dissolved into wanting to dunk something into it (it's Cool Whip for chrissake).
Hello Keebler fudge striped cookie (pictured above).
While chewing same, I made the ill-advised decision to read the ingredient list, which I do not recommend. Stay instead, dear reader, within the soft soma-like cloud of don't-ask-don't-tell denial. Enjoy this "rich & creamy" treat in blissful ignorance and abandon this post now.
This stuff is made with hydrogenated oil. It's not even partially hydrogenated. This is whole-hog hydrogenated. It's like the Titanic tanking in your aorta. On top of that, it's loaded with high fructose corn syrup. But perhaps my favorite ingredient is: "beta carotene (color)."
Um, Kraft Foods? THIS SHIT IS WHITE.
None of this deterred me from eating the goddamn fudge-striped cookie/Cool Whip monstrosity (and the two that immediately followed), but a few days later I also creating a hellish "sundae" with vanilla ice cream, crushed pretzels, coffee syrup, dry-roasted peanuts and yes, a massive dollop of Cool Whip.
The worst part of it is that the Cool Whip will linger in my cabinet long after as its fatty particles have firmly attached themselves to the walls of my arteries. Being a Woman in Cleveland, I have to save the empty Cool Whip container, into which I will deposit leftover potatoes, sausage and sauerkraut to dispatch to my father-in-law, who will dutifully return the container to me.
Said too-good-to-throw-away container activity will continue for six to 12 months (or longer), until the lid suffers a massive injury (read: crack) and I can finally recycle it (although my mother has been known to use tinfoil to cover a still-good-enough-to-use Cool Whip container that has lost its lid--I have not advanced to this level yet).
And that of course brings me to the dreaded Bag Disease.
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Guilty pleasures vol. one: Mark Dacascos
Guilty pleasures vol. two: I am ... I said
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