Lunch period

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Think back to your childhood. No matter how great it was, the thing you probably longed for most was control. Your days were scheduled into school and extracurriculars. You could stay out only until your curfew. You could go only where your parents approved. And you could eat only what you were served.

The progression to adult life seemed like a desperately slow trickle of increased freedoms, of which you had none. Until a talking cartoon kangaroo turned your life around. A double-chambered cookie and frosting snack was an absurd proposal. While other frosted cookie snacks gave you a pre-proportioned amount of frosting per cookie, the promise of Dunkaroos was a promise of no-holds-barred snack pandemonium.

Want to evenly distribute the frosting onto each cookie? Sure, play it safe. Want to make a few icing sandwiches, maximizing cookie-icing mouthfuls? Sounds like a plan. Want to goop all the icing on the first cookie then trade the rest of them for half a Fruit Roll-Up? Your entrepreneurial spirit is welcomed here.

If you pulled out Dunkaroos at lunch you were set. The masses would huddle at your feet, clawing at your ankles with meagre trade offerings they knew couldn’t possibly measure up. If a Dunkaroo trade ever did occur, the recipient would be cleaned out. High value targets like Gushers, Fruit Roll-Ups and Oreos needed to be combined to even take a shot at the King of Snacks. I’ve seen kids pool their hordes to trade for one package, then painstakingly divide the frosting between them. Inevitably, one party would attempt to co-opt a sliver they weren’t entitled to, and savagery would ensue.

Much like democracy and a smug sense of self-satisfaction, Dunkaroos were discontinued in the U.S. but are still available in Canada. And since schadenfreude is the best part of being Canadian, please rest secure in the knowledge that while we can enjoy Dunkaroos whenver we want; they cannot.