By: Mary Fran Bontempo
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In a study conducted by neurology professor, Joseph Schroeder, and his students at Connecticut College, results confirmed that when given a choice between a rice cake and an Oreo, rats will go for the Oreo every time.
I’m no neurologist, but I could have pretty much told you that without a study. Yet, while that bit of news is really not, what was alarming was the finding by the teacher and his class that Oreos are as addictive as cocaine.
Again, um, duh.
Any woman ever exposed to an Oreo knows, they are a temptation created by the Devil himself, serving no good purpose but to taste ridiculously good and ruin even the most carefully plotted healthy eating and diet plan.
Have you ever tried to eat one Oreo? They’re right up there with the “Bet ya can’t eat just one” Lays Potato Chips, the salt-infused cousin to the Oreo.
When I was a kid, the mere thought of grabbing a couple of Oreos and dunking them luxuriously into a cold glass of milk was enough to get me through many an afternoon in Sister Mary Screams-a-Lot’s class. The dream was surpassed only by the reality of the sensation of the milk-soaked, gooey cookie and cream hitting my taste buds.
When I became responsible for buying my own food and later, that of my children, Oreos were forbidden fruit, never gracing the pantry shelves. Until, that is, my husband realized my insidious plan to make him eat well, at which point he miraculously figured out where the grocery store was and bought his own Oreos.
Dave became our family’s Oreo dealer. Once Pandora’s box of Oreos was again loosed, I took it a step further, becoming my extended family’s “Dirt Cake Queen,” and bringing a sinful dessert containing an entire package of crushed Oreos to every family function. I am refused entrance to parties without the requisite Dirt Cake, which, I suppose, makes me my family’s supplier.
The Connecticut study found that Oreos stimulate “many more neurons than cocaine or morphine,” reinforcing the theory that sweet and fatty foods are indeed addictive, which again, anyone up to their elbows in a package of Oreos could have told you without making mice fat.
The implications for obesity are huge, no pun intended, and I’m not sure of the solution. Oreo interventions? Oreo rehab? And what if we manage to eliminate the scourge that is the Oreo from our food supply? What then? Do we go after Girl Scout cookies? I dare anyone to try and get between my husband and a box of thin mints.
Maybe there’s a use for all of this knowledge. Instead of sending our young soldiers into crazy parts of the world, why don’t we just drop bombs loaded with Oreos? In no time at all, the loonies intent on wreaking havoc will be so fat and sluggish we’ll be able to drown them all in a giant glass of milk. Or maybe we could just drop the Oreo-addicted mice on their heads. Without their Oreo fix, those mice are going to be wild-eyed and angry pretty fast, so I’m betting mice-1, terrorists-0.
There’s no end to the possibilities. With a little creativity, we could soon have every bad guy in the world on his knees in an Oreo-induced haze, begging for a fix. But first, we’ll have to kick the habit ourselves.
No more sweet, gooey cream. No more chocolate cookie. No more dirt cake. Oh forget it. It’ll never happen. Now, has anyone seen the milk?
What’s your take on the Oreo addiction? Click “comments” below and share!