Cheetos

My daughter loves Cheetos. Since the first day she was able to eat solid foods, I believe. I wonder if kids are just born with a predisposition for loving the powdery, orange puffs. “What kind of chips do you want with your peanut butter sandwich?” I’d ask, always met with the same answer: Cheetos.

If you know, you know. There is a very, very fine line between Cheeto puffs and Cheeto crunchies. Never, I repeat never, should a parent opt for crunchy when puffs are an option. Unless, of course, your little likes the crunchies—then, naturally, puffs are just wrong.

As a matter of fact, I learned just to ignore the crunchies. They were a non-option.

Until I blinked and my toddler turned pre-tween and spicy became the thing—now the only chip out there is Flaming Hot. And they’re not puffs, they’re crunchies.

Cheeto crunchies are still a no, though. Even when we buy the variety pack of little chip bags, you know, the one that gives each person an option and keeps everyone happy? The poor, original Cheeto Crunchy bags are always the last to disappear. What a difference that spicy ingredient makes!

I’ve never been a true fan of Cheetos in this way, though. I’d choose a plain chip over them, actually. Whether it’s chips as a snack or chips with your club sandwich, Cheetos are usually my last pick.

One summer in middle-school, I remember spending a large portion of my summer with a friend who had a pool. We took turns spending days at a time at one another’s homes. If we were at my house, then we’d call begging her mom for permission for her to stay one more night. If we were at hers, then we would call and bed my mom.

A Louisiana summer is hot and wet. Not wet like rain, but the air is wet like a blanket drenched in hot water, barely rung out, hangs and steams in front of you as you walk. So, if you’re playing outside for any amount of time, your sweat soaks through your clothes. You might as well play in the water. That’s why, if your friend has a pool, you stay at her house the most. And swimming is what you do every day. (It counts for a shower, too, don’t let anyone say otherwise. Unless you swim in a pond or a lake, you should shower then; but if you swim all day in a pool, you aren’t dirty.) And that’s how me and my friend lived life that summer when we took the turn at her house. Eat, swim, sleep.

Repeat.

Then, it happened. One afternoon, my friend and I snuck into the kitchen—freezing from our wet swimsuits meeting the cool air of the house—and swiped and entire bag of Cheetos. We ran back, jumped in the pool, and ate the delicious, orange puffs right there on the side of the pool. We ate the bag down to the powder at the bottom, and nothing had ever tasted so good.

There exists a specific chemistry between the chlorine water and the Cheeto cheese dust. That last act of licking the orange off your fingers is all well and good, but when there’s extra left over from sticking a pool-wet hand into the bag, and the puff part becomes just a little bit soggy before you get it to your mouth-- it becomes a delicacy.

I've since learned the experience extends from pools to lakes, ponds, beaches, waterparks. Even just playing in the water sprinkler in the back yard. There's nothing better than a bag of Cheetos waiting for you on a hot, water-fun kind of day.