Backup Oreos

While I was cooking dinner tonight, my children were scavenging for snacks. I guess it would be cruel and unusual punishment for them to wait twenty minutes.  I’m not paying much attention to the horde of ravenous teenagers descending on the snack cabinet like locusts – until I hear the phrase “Backup Oreos”.

Let me give you the context.

Dougie, the man child:  Did you guys eat all those Oreos?

Haleigh:  Sorry, those Cinnamon Bun Oreos were delicious.

(She’s right.  They were delicious.)

Dougie:  Dang it! (Then quieter) Hey, Hunter.  Where are those backup Oreos?

Hunter:  Which ones?  The ones you bought last week or my stash?

(Which ones?!  Why do we have ANY, let alone multiple packs of backup Oreos?)

Dougie:  I don’t care, any ones.

Hunter:  They’re hidden in my room.  You can go get some.

I stopped listening after that.  There are some things a mother doesn’t need to know. 

For the record, my children are active and a healthy weight.  I feed them regularly, and although I don’t buy a ton of junk food, they do have some treats.  There is no good reason for food hording to be a thing in my house – except, of course, for the fact that there is a flock of vultures masquerading as my children.  It’s every man for himself when it comes to snacks.

Does stuff like this go on in other people’s houses?  Or are my children crazy?  Don’t answer that.  They’re crazy. I know it. They know it.  I can only pray that there is never a zombie apocalypse.  I shudder to imagine what would happen if the backup Oreos ran out.