I stare at the Oreos nestled between the Nutter Butters and the Chips Ahoy in the cookie aisle. Two aisles over, the cereal boxes stand witness as a four-year-old boy wails, his mother dragging him kicking and screaming away from the Lucky Charms. In front of the dairy products all lined up in perfect rows a man laughs as his teenage daughter tells a him story involving yogurt and few of her friends. To my left a woman absent mindedly steers her cranky cart past me, the front wheel veering dangerously in my direction, scanning all the sweets trying not to pick up any of the shiny plastic packages calling her name, because she’s on a diet.
And then there’s me, still staring at those Oreos. I want to cry with the little boy now in the produce section, stuck in cart as his mom picks out veggies for his lunch. I want to smile at the stories that girl is telling her dad about her school and how fun her friends are. And just like that lady, whose unruly cart just ran into a masterful tower of canned beans (almost sending them all flying), I need to walk away from the Oreos.
Because I’ve just found out I’m diabetic. Sugar is the reason it hurts to walk, the reason I can’t lose weight, the reason I was in the ER last week. But I just love Oreos so much. But does my love of Oreos outweigh my desire to be healthy and live a long and fulfilling life?
“Are you going to pick something or just stand there?”
The boy staring at me is like a reflection of myself at his age. A little heavy, narrowed eyes, and starving for the Oreos. I step back and watch as he greedily snatches the double stuffed Oreos off the shelf cradling them like a baby. I stare at his back as he rounds the corner and calls to him mom in the next aisle over, “Found em!”
And the answer comes to me. No, I’d much rather be healthy and feeling good then feed my addiction to Oreos.