But of course there were snacks, so here we go:
1. potato chips -- that should be enough in and of itself. Back in the day there were no flavors. They were just potato chips. But . . .
2. Pringles -- my maternal grandparents had Pringles, more than just potato chips. Stacking and duck lips were involved here.
3. Potato sticks (are you sensing a them here?) -- my paternal grandmother provided these. Matchstick fried potatoes that it was simpler to pour directly into my mouth than try to pick up.
4. Krispy Kreme Crullers -- there for awhile my mom would bring home a box of these each week from the grocery store. We ate them after our frozen pizza or Little Caesar's and drank grape juice with them. Pardon me while I go take an antacid.
5. Grapes -- interestingly these game home on the same day as #4 and were devoured in the same afternoon.
6. M&Ms or Three Musketeers -- my great-great aunt and uncle provided one or the other of these every time we visited their house. Three Musketeers still make me think of Auntie and Uncle Horace.
7. homemade shortbread cookies -- my mom didn't bake cookies often, but usually around Thanksgiving we'd get a couple batches of these. She had cookie cutters shaped like pilgrims -- a man and a woman we dubbed Horace and Eudalia.
8. Kraft Garlic Cheese Roll with Vienna Sausages and Keebler Clubhouse crackers -- this was actually more of a lunch thing with my maternal grandfather. The salt and preservatives alone should keep me alive for at least 100 years. Did I mention we drank Kick along with this smorgasbord?
9. popcorn -- my great-grandmother would walk us down to the convenience store and get us popcorn they popped in the store and an RC Cola.
10. homemade graham cracker pie crust -- yes, you read that correctly. My mother would mix up crushed graham crackers, sugar, and melted butter in a bowl, hand me a spoon, and that was my after school snack. Now as a kid I was not complaining, but as a parent I think, "What was she thinking!?!?!"
So there you go. Ten snacks I remember from my childhood. Is it any wonder I've turned into a bit of a Nazi when it comes to processed foods?
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