In all honesty, I kinda liked Eggo Waffles. I think we all did at some point. But it had nothing to do with those Saturday morning commercials that tried to artificially create a struggle in your family over a damn frozen waffle. Simple solution: toast more than one waffle at a time. How about that? Then the brothers can actually be friends instead of being driven apart by syrup-trapping quadrilaterals. Just a suggestion.
All was dandy in the world of waffles until you reached the point of no return: the Eggo OD.
For my family, the turning point came once we turned food into an investment. Like most things we like to eat regularly, the natural transition was to stock up and save by upgrading to Costco-sized quantities. But that’s when things went horribly, horribly wrong.
We got so sick of Eggos that they became the unwanted stepchild of food products. It was punishment to be forced to settle for an Eggo. My mom would pull the Eggo Card when she didn’t feel like cooking: “why don’t you just eat an Eggo wah-pul?” and that was the ultimate diss.
The 60 count box was an intimidating beast that took up a third of the freezer. Every time you went for some ice cream (which was every night) it taunted you as if saying, “It’s a losing cause buddy… you’ll never finish me, and even if you do, I’ll just be replaced by another crate of waffles. I’m here FOREVER, muthafucka!”
Though you grew to cringe at the sight of the Eggo logo, you eventually had to come crawling back during your rebellious adolescent bouts with your mom. Fights with her left you alone like Man vs. Wild, relying on a steady diet of Eggo and variety packs of mini cereal boxes (Cinnamon Toast Crunch was always the first to go, so you were stuck with a 10 box pile of only Raisin Bran). Sure, the neglected Eggos have now grown some impressive looking freezer burns, but you still end up eating them to survive in your household.
Over time, your relationship with waffles eventually expands to making homemade waffles at your first dining commons breakfast and even trying it with some fried chicken. While you were excited about the new experiences, your traumatizing Eggo childhood left you feeling a little ‘meh’ about eating just another waffle.
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