Yogurt My Wife Eats

Yep, this blog-post is about yogurt.

Seeing as I commandeered the remote this past weekend to watch March Madness, my wife was unable to watch any television for me to blog about. She was also unable buy me Doritos at the grocery store because I was recently diagnosed with high blood pressure and can no longer eat anything with ito in it. She was however able to buy lots of yogurt, which doesn't taste nearly as good as ito products, but apparently is much better for my digestive system and chronic case of Exploding Ass Syndrome.

Now, my wife doesn't just buy any yogurt, she only buys yogurt that's more expensive than other yogurts. And this weekend she splurged for the really expensive Greek yogurt with the fruit on the side. Apparently, Greek yogurt has taken over the yogurt world, a development that I was completely unaware of. Sure, I knew about tzatziki sauce (which is awesome), but that's not really made with yogurt, it's made with marshmogurt. Also, I hadn't eaten yogurt in almost twenty years due to my aforementioned ito addiction and the fact that yogurt sucks.

I'm not allowed to have either of these.

However, I was willing to try this new Greek yogurt because I happen to like all things Greek: gyros, the Olympics, chest hair, Roman numerals, George Stephanopolous, George Papadapolis, Snuffleupagus, Snuff films, so I totally support this recent power shift in the yogurt world. 

My wife's Greek yogurt of choice is the brand, Fage (pronounced: Fa-yeh), although we call it "Greek yogurt." I'm not sure why we call it Greek yogurt, possibly to distinguish it from the Stonyfield yogurts in our fridge, but I guess we could just call it Fa-yeh, or yogurt, or Grogurt, but we don't.

If you've never had Grogurt, it's very smooth and tangy, almost twangy, and comes complete with its fruit on the side a la Dunkaroos or those Handi Snacks Cheez N Crackers containers with the red, plastic stick that I used to go f***ing bonkers for. My wife eats her Grogurt by mixing her fruit and Grogurt together into one colorfully mashed Grogurt, but that just seems juvenile to me. We're not making chocolate milk here or mixing watercolors, we're enjoying a Greek delicacy. I like to take a little fruit on my spoon and scoop out some Grogurt with it, deciding for myself how fruity each one of my spoonfuls will be. This happens to also be a perfect metaphor for my life.

Snuffy probably eats Grogurt like a boss.

Unfortunately, we never seem to have any clean, small spoons in our house which is clearly the best way to enjoy Grogurt (or just regular yogurt). I had to eat my Grogurt this weekend with a large spoon, which was especially difficult because every time I put my Grogurt down with my spoon resting in it, it toppled over and fell on the floor. Moreover, my spoon was way too big to scoop out all of the blueberry sauce so I ended up trying to jam my tongue into the Grogurt container and got Grogurt all over my chin. Amazingly, this was an even better metaphor for my life.

Overall, I thoroughly enjoyed my Grogurt experience and look forward to having it again the next time I can't find anything in the house to eat (or when my wife just brings me some). I'm very happy for the Greeks and their recent rise on the yogurt pantheon, even if it does mean that our weekly grocery bill will inevitably be larger. Lastly, I'm not sure if I'm ever allowed to eat baklava again, but I do know that my wife is going away in a few weekends so I'll probably score myself a batch and possibly eat them on top of Doritos.

Also, I secretly had fried chicken yesterday.

Don't tell her!!!

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Or just make some Fried Chicken. That seems like the better move anyway.