Why do I keep eating cookies?

Derrick Knutson
Derrick Knutson

“Why is the Thin Mints box open? You don’t even like Thin Mints,” my wife said to me while I was sitting on the couch Sunday, thinking about eating more cookies.
I corrected her that I don’t like consuming most things mint flavored, because I feel like I’m eating toothpaste or gum. But Thin Mints don’t fall within that realm. They’re a pleasant intermingling of subtle mint and chocolate flavors.
Also, I started eating the cookies because I had wolfed down the entire box of Tagalongs — my favorite Girl Scout cookies — by myself.
We’re currently in the midst of a problem likely affecting many people this time of year: We bought way too many cookies from those little peddlers of smiles, carbohydrates and sugar. We stopped by County Market recently to shoot the breeze with one of our friends, who is the head of a Girl Scout troop. We walked away from there with five boxes of cookies: The aforementioned Thin Mints and Tagalongs, Shortbread ones, Lemonades and Samoas, the only box of cookies my wife will have all to herself. You ever been to a hair stylist and she blows some clippings into your mouth with the hair dryer after she’s done cutting your hair? To me, that’s the same texture as coconut, so there’s my explanation as to why I won’t eat a Samoa.
But I digress. Back to the matter at hand: I seemingly can’t stop eating cookies. We don’t normally buy sweets to this level, and there’s good reason for that — I will eat them all. Same goes for foods like Cool Ranch Doritos. It might say “family size” on the bag, but my mind transforms that into “single serving.” It’s best for me just not to purchase that kind of nutritionally empty stuff. If it’s not around, I won’t eat it. That’s simple enough logic.
But the Girl Scouts are a good organization and I don’t mind supporting them, so I guess it’s all right that I’m munching on so many cookies right now. What I haven’t figured out yet is how I should address the still-ample amount of cookies in our house.
When I was young, probably before fourth grade, I’d get really, really excited for Halloween. I’d go house to house and fill my bucket with an array of candy. When I got the haul home, I’d proceed to eat nearly all of it over the course of about two days.
I suppose I could employ that strategy to get rid of the cookies, but I remember there being a problem with that approach: I’d curl up into a ball and not want to move for a long time after ingesting about half of my bodyweight in candy. Performing this ill-thought-out eating venture as an adult might incapacitate me for weeks.
So I guess I’ll just keep slowly eliminating the cookies, two here, three there, until they’re all gone. I’ll probably feel kind of bad about how many I have consumed when all the boxes are empty, but there will be a little part of me — 8-year-old candy-glutton Derrick — who will say, “Hey, you should contact the Girl Scouts. Maybe they’ve still got some Tagalongs left.”

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