And so today’s moment of happiness despite the news.
A few days ago, Michael and Olivia were over at Walgreens, buying Olivia first-day-of-school supplies. In high school, you don’t get your supply list until you get your syllabi for each class, so we just wanted to make sure she went with the basics – notebooks, folders, pencils, highlighters. They forgot the list and so Olivia texted me, asking for a few details. And then she texted, “Dad got Orange Oreos. J”
My response: “ORANGE OREOS??????”
As I’ve said before, I do not write in multiple punctuation marks. But this warranted it. My first thought was absolute wordless joy. My second thought was, This is August. They can’t possibly be ripe.
Orange Oreos are an October food. But…oh. Orange Oreos!
You know how sometimes there are themes or common occurrences in a writer’s work? Anyone who has read my stories or novels has seen a prevalence of Oreos. And in particular, the Orange Oreo. In my novel, The Home For Wayward Clocks, there is a story/chapter titled Marriage in Orange, in which Orange Oreos are practically a character. And they’re even used in a, well, intimate, erotic sort of way.
Now here’s the thing. I don’t know why Orange Oreos affect me the way that they do.
Does the orange stuff in the middle taste like orange?
Do the Oreos, even though they are orange, taste like any other type of plain Oreo?
Some would say so, but I would argue that they do not.
I don’t have the damnedest idea. They’re just the absolute BEST.
I don’t want Chips Ahoy. I don’t want Nutter Butters (oh, ick – and remember the commercials? Have a ‘nother Nutter Butter Peanut Butter Sandwich Cookie! No, thank you.) I don’t want Fig Newtons (Ooey-gooey rich and chewy insides! Soft and cakey tender flakey outsides!), Fudge Stripes, or those weird (though yummy) neapolitan-striped wafer cookies. I don’t want any of the other special color or special flavor Oreos. Whoever came up with the Swedish Fish Oreo was certifiably insane.
But Orange Oreos. Oh, baby. Curl my toes.
I should probably mention that the Orange Oreo is commonly called the Halloween Oreo – especially by its maker, Nabisco. The chocolate cookie part has Halloween-type creatures stamped into it. I don’t care. That’s not what makes it special. It’s the ORANGE.
So my moment of happiness today. Right now.
Michael is downstairs, teaching a class.
Olivia is at a friend’s house.
The dogs are asleep. The cats are asleep. I’m done with clients for the day. It’s quiet. My deck door is open and while I hear the sounds of the city, I also hear night-bug type noises. There is a rain-fresh breeze.
And by my side: a stack of Orange Oreos and a cup of hot, strong black coffee.
No, I don’t share.
And yes, that helps. Despite. Anyway.