This morning Fooducate hit me right where it hurts.  They delivered an email to my inbox that forced me to do something I’ve been unable to do for YEARS.

Let me back up. I was a Girl Scout.  Thanks to my mom’s office building of sweet tooth wielding sitting ducks, I was a top-selling cookie Girl Scout.  I have nostalgic amorous daydreams of sweet little girls with proud blazing badges across our sashes, knocking on doors and filling up PAGES of order sheets.  My mom was The Cookie Mom and our living room AND dining room were filled with cases of cookies.  Our carport became ground zero for Volvo station wagons and minivans as the other scouts’ moms coordinated the picking up of their cookies.  We always had leftovers from orders and mailed them to relatives in distant cities.  Our freezer was stocked, so we had at least a six month supply.

Suffice to say, I have fond memories of Girl Scout cookies.  Whenever some enterprising cherub in green crosses my path, I buy cookies (and even more cookies if she’s a cute as a bug Daisy Scout in blue).  It’s as involuntary an action as that knee-jerk response at the doctor’s office.

So when Fooducate posted this blog originally posted by Christina Le Beau on Spoonfed I read with the incredulity of “Who hates Girl Scout Cookies?” already firmly stamped on my furrowed brow.  And then I did what I’ve never been able to do before.  I read the ingredients.

I’ll warn you now.  This is one of those red or blue pill moments because once you know, you can’t act like you don’t know.

I wasn’t looking for “healthy cookies” by any means, but the list of dubious ingredients is rather long even if you get beyond trans fats.  Anytime I’ve looked at the nutrition label on these sacred icons my vision got blurry, my attention distracted, and I retained absolutely nothing that I read.  How’s that for selective memory?  My nostalgia is fiercely protected by my psyche apparently.

There are other voices and links in the article that have more outspoken and action oriented opinions than mine.  So if you feel galvanized to do something or speak out, by all means do.

As for me, I’m still trying to reconcile my nostalgia and my reality. Kinda feels like someone shot the Easter Bunny and served him for dinner.

And I do believe my order of Thin Mints and Samoas and Trefoils is ready for pickup today.  Ironic, isn’t it?

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