The Ubiquitous Foil Wrapper

I believe in full disclosure. I have a lot of dignity, but very little in the way of shame. Most people who know me know this to be true.

So, Mom sent me mail-order English Muffins for Easter. I don't think there's any specific symbolism there, unless the nooks and crannies are meant to symbolize... Golgotha? There were two kinds, apple and mixed berry. I had an apple one right when I woke up this morning, S____ was in the gym and I had just done three days' worth of dishes. I baked it with some cheddar and swiss and it was very good.

We take a shower and I realize that I'm still hungry. I throw one of the mixed berry muffins in and think of how good it will be with cream cheese oozing all out the sides of it. Keep in mind that I ride my bike 36 miles a day to work so I have a pretty hungry metabolism.

The muffin comes out of the oven all warm and crusty on top and I open our cheese drawer (full of so much cheese!!) in the fridge and grab a foil-wrapped package. I cut off two quarter-inch slabs and notice that the foil wrapper says "not for use as a spread" which leaves me to wonder if this is a weird type of cream cheese that's meant for baking. It's sure as hell not spreading on the muffin very well, so I press the two halves together into a sandwich and this spreads the white substance out nicely.

I eat half of my muffin sandwich when S____ comes out and asks how it is.

"It's pretty good, but I think this cream cheese might be stale."

"Really, let me have a taste." Bite. Chew. Chew. "That's not cream cheese. I think it's mozzarella."

"No, I cut some off of a foil-wrapped package."

We go to the fridge and discover that on flipping said package over, it very clearly says "Crisco."

Keep in mind that I thought the "cream cheese" tasted weird, but I kept eating it until I got about halfway through. It feels like I'm carrying some horrible shortening baby through to term.